The Farewell Runaround
by Yvearia
Summary: *Now on Indefinite Hiatus* "Tread lightly. You don't know everything that goes on here." A few years post BDM: The crew is set to free a girl from a human smuggling circuit, when the plan goes pear-shaped, bonds are broken and relationships are turned upside-down. Mal/River
1. friend of the night

A/N: I suck for doing this a week after the fact, but I had to edit, edit, edit. The meat of the story is the same, but I wasn't happy with the format. I usually post in 1k - 3k word chapters and I must have been smoking crack when I decided to lay this all out there in this single huge chapter format. (Also I suck for the lack of a/n's...)  
>So... Chapter One and so on...<br>p.s. btw, there is much more still to come!  
>p.p.s. thanks for the reviews (those of you that have, and those of you that will)<p>

~Y

* * *

><p>"River, girl? You passed out on me for a second there, little one." Mal looked concerned, while trying not to look too concerned. It had an odd effect on his features, though the corners of his mouth pulled up into a tight smile. "Where'd you go, darlin'?"<p>

She pushed herself up on her elbows. There was a buzzing in her ears and a slight burning at the base of her head. She reached her hand behind her and brought it around to see the wet smear of blood on her fingertips.

"Shàngdì gāisǐ!"

"What happened?" River croaked weakly as she shrugged off Mal's profanity.

"You were comin' down the steps to the 'bay an your eyes got all glazed over and then rolled back. Your feet stopped a second after your brain, looked like, and you took a tumble. Sit still and I'll holler for your brother." He reached into his pocket for the com when River stood suddenly.

"It doesn't need stitches, Ma-al," she said quickly before slumping back to the floor with her hands on her temples. "Stood up too fast."

"Uh-huh. You sure I ain't gotta call Simon," Mal asked skeptically. She shot him a look that said very plainly, 'you don't want to'. "I guess he's sleepin' this hour the night."

"Not sleeping. Fuc-"

"Bì shàng nǐ de zuǐ!" He was taken aback by her crassness, but only for a moment. "Com'on. You may not be needin' stitches, but a cold pack couldn't hurt." Mal pulled her to her feet and steadied her as they headed for the galley. "Sit. And... and stay."

"Not a dog," she mumbled as he steered her toward one of the galley chairs.

"No, but I shudder to think how many ways that brother a' yours could come up with killin me if his mei mei were to die of a concussion on my watch. Then with me dead, Jayne'd think he's in charge and Zo'd hafta kill him and there'd be a whole lotta unnecessary bloodshed on account a you sneaking off and fallin' asleep. So it looks like we'll be each other's company tonight." He handed her a cryo-gel pack wrapped in a dishcloth and winced as he lifted the hair at the nape of her neck to examine the injury. "Ouch."

"Put mildly."

"So what happened out there, albatross? Why weren't you cozy in your bunk?" He let her place the pack to her own head and took a seat across the corner of the table from her.

"Somnambulism."

"Wha-huh?"

"Also called noctambulism or sleepwalking. It is one of the most striking arousal disorders, mostly because it scares people living with the somnambulant. Like many parasomnias, the causes of somnambulism are a mystery. It is believed to be aggravated by stress, fatigue, sleep deprivation and some medications-"

"Whoa, there. That's a bunch of doctor-y type speak that means not a whole lot to an old captain. But I seen men sleepwalking before."

River plucked the memory out of his mind near effortlessly. "Those men had post traumatic stress after the war. Simon says I do."

"Forget wars, little one. What are we gonna do to keep you up all night?" Mal shifted in his seat uncomfortably. PTSD was something he was all too familiar with.

"Tell me a story."

That had him off guard. It wasn't much something he'd ever thought to do, past his own aspirations. Even those were sometimes limited to making enough coin to keep the boat goin' and not starve to death.

"About earth-that-was."

"Don't know a whole lot 'bout that place. 'Sides, what if you get bored and pass out on me again?"

"I'll help you. We can take turns telling it together. Your inaccuracies should keep my mind occupied enough to stave off danger." Her eyes twinkled then and he had a hard time shaking the feeling that she had known exactly how insulting that sounded.

"Don't you go teasin' me, girl. I've a mind to go get your brother, let him keep an eye on you." Mal was only half serious, though the thought of staying up through the night cycle with the girl – even though she was his lil' albatross – was a bit unsettling. But the look that slid across River's features at his threat cemented his decision to stay with her. He could see it on her face the moment he'd decided that she'd been reading him, and his mouth turned down into a frown.

"You think loudly. Like yelling."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

He shook his head at how quick and dry she'd answered him. "Still the dilemma of what to be doin'. I ain't a storyteller and, uh, well, but if you wanted to… we could check the cortex. See an old flick or something." He'd been planning on walking the ship when he saw River floating up along the catwalk before her fall. He'd run, but hadn't been there fast enough to catch her. He hated that feeling – seeing the outcome of a situation and knowing there was nothing he could do to change it, only wait for the fallout. He suddenly felt a twinge of kindred with the slip of a girl sitting caddy corner to him.

"I'll walk with you," she said, following his line of thought.

"Not on the catwalks. You been temptin' luck too much for one night. But… we'll run a check on all the other necessaries. You can tell me what you know 'bout earth-that-was. Teach an old man something."

Four hours later, they sat in the pilot and co-pilot's chairs respectively, each holding onto a cup of dark coffee. River kept rattling on and Mal's head had started spinning from the speed at which she was taking him through earth-that-was history. So when she reached the story of King Henry the VIII he'd suggested she focus on that one for a while and they'd drink some coffee.

"So, it really is a common misconception that all six of his wives were beheaded. He outlived four, and only killed two of those. The rest were either annulled marriages or the women died due to the medical ignorance of the time."

"When you said 'the six wives of King Henry the VIII' I thought I'd be hearing 'bout palaces and fancy balls and the like." _Among other things_.

"Oh, trust me, there was plenty of sex going on."

Mal shook his head at her response, and stared down into the black liquid in his cup. Soon they heard the rest of the ship rouse – Kaylee heading to the engine room even before the shower room, Jayne stumbling tiredly into the kitchen to help himself to the fresh coffee, and the general noises of the other three crew members moving about the ship. "That's it for me, little one. I'm good for nothing without a few hours rest. Let Zoe take the stick if you need to get some sleep yourself. Think it oughta be safe by now."

"You won't tell Simon." It wasn't a question.

He stood without another word and made his way off of the bridge, depositing his coffee cup in the galley.

"I ain't cleanin' that," Jayne said as Mal passed him. He only waved his hand in response and continued on to his bunk.

River crawled into her bed nearly an hour later and let the daytime hum of the ship and the crew lull her into a relatively peaceful sleep. Mal slept only a few hours that morning before the wave came in from Perth.

"This' Captain Reynolds. Who do I owe the pleasure?"

A younger man of tall, but slight stature slouched to fit into the cortex frame. "Captain, you don't know me."

"That a fact?" Mal asked shortly. He had just woken and was in no mood to drag a conversation on longer than it had call for.

"My name is Richard Allan. Rick. We seem to have a few mutual acquaintances." He talked smooth enough to make Mal question just which acquaintances he was referring to. "Warwick Harrow being one."

"That's a name I ain't heard in a minute."

Forty minutes later Mal gathered the crew in the galley. He'd have liked to have River there as well but there was nothing for it. She needed to rest after yesterday's spill. No one really seemed overly concerned by her absence anyhow. "Got a wave from Perth just a bit ago. They got proper work for us in the Dyton area, then transporting cargo back up to them on Perth."

"Dyton? This got anything to do with Badger, Sir?"

"No, it don't."

"Don't matter long as it pays right enough," Jayne interjected as though his opinion was called for.

"Like I said, it's proper work, and that means proper pay. Cargo's a mite more sensitive than usual, and we gotta keep things real quiet."

"What's the cargo, Sir?" Zoe took a half step forward anxiously.

"People could get hurt if we tā mā de zhège zhùcè. Now I ain't volunteering anybody for work like that, so now's your time to choose."

"Cap'n, we can't choose till ya tell us what we're choosin'," Kaylee piped up for the first time since they had congregated. Simon stood behind her with his hand resting comfortably on her waist, but remained silent until he knew what he would be casting his vote for or against.

"This Rick Allan, he's got a sister. She's been taken and traded to pay a debt. Best he can figure, she's off on Dyton. He's got an address and he's got information. First stop's over to Perth to get the plan laid out." Mal noticed Simon tense and stand straighter at the mention of a kidnapped sister. "Human traffic never sat well with me and I know it ain't yóutài with any of you neither. But give me the say so and you can be sittin' this one out at Perth. Won't think less of you for it. Just let me know 'for long so I can plan according." He turned then, and headed for the bridge to plot a course for Perth.

A/N (update)

Here are the rough Mandarin to English translations for this chapter. You will find the translations for the following chapters at the bottom of each page. Sorry for the time it took me to geth them out to you. Hope this makes the story more enjoyable/easier to read.

Shàngdì gāisǐ – goddamnit

Bì shàng nǐ de zuǐ – shut your foul mouth

tā mā de zhège zhùcè – fuck this up

yóutài – kosher


	2. worry about you

She had a way of being able to sneak up on a body if she wanted to, but he heard her footsteps behind him on the bridge a few hours later. The rest of the crew was busy cleaning up after supper and he sat staring out into the black.

"Seventy-two hours 'till Perth," he said without turning around. River hadn't been awake to share the meal with the crew, and he hadn't heard her talking with anybody on her way through the galley, but he was certain of her knowledge of the job.

"We have to save a woman from sexual slave trade."

He winced when he heard her put it so matter-of-factly. "Won't be an easy thing. Told folks they best be makin' up their minds soon, 'cause I'm heading that way."

"They'll help you." The lilt of her voice made him glance over his shoulder at her to be sure he'd actually heard the smile in her voice. It was there. "The only reluctant one is Jayne. He'll be relatively pliable when he hears about the payment promised."

"About that," Mal turned around full in his seat now. "You'd be getting an equal share. I know it'll be difficult – hell, it'll be dangerous – but I just can't see as how we can work this one without your help, little one. Now, you got a choice like all the rest of 'em - "

"I like role play. Pretend to be normal; not to be River."

"Absolutely not!"

"Simon…" Kaylee tried to sooth, standing between the siblings in the lounge.

"No. This one is _not_ negotiable. River, how could you possibly think this is a good idea?" He evened his tone and took a step closer to his mei mei.

"It's the right thing to do, Simon," she said softly through the veil of her hair.

"Not for you."

"They brand them. Pull and tear the women to shreds. There'll be nothing left. No mind, no soul, just broken bodies and pain! The darkness and the burning, suffocating the will out of them with their tools and their - "

"Enough!" He held his hands up, pleading for her to stop. "Mei mei, you shouldn't know these things."

"They shouldn't, Simon. Those women shouldn't have to know them." The tone in her voice was one he had difficulty arguing with. His shoulders slumped in defeat as she stepped past Kaylee and placed a hand on her big brother's shoulder. "Don't worry, dàgē. No power in the 'verse can stop me."

Because of the Alliance presence on Greenleaf and its surrounding moons, of which Dyton was one, anonymity would need to be a key part of their plan. The irony wasn't lost on Mal that the other key part of their plan was going to be a young, unstable, high profile fugitive. Idling Serenity just outside atmo of Perth, Mal took the second shuttle to the moon to meet with Rick Allan alone. The last thing he needed was someone recognizing the Tams and deciding to try their hand at the bounty. Twelve hours later, the shuttle docked with Serenity, baring the Captain and a bushel of supplies, along with thirty percent of their payment.

"Five days time, we dock on Greenleaf. I told y'all proper work meant proper pay. So here it is." He doled out three hundred platinum each. Jayne's eyes began to bulge.

"Payment up front for a job like this?" He whistled, impressed.

"That's down payment. Thirty percent." Kaylee let out a little gasp but the rest of the crew was silent, Jayne trying to do the math in his head. "That's a thousand a piece once the job's done. The house the girl is being held at is in the dungeon alley area of Dyton colony. Allan's got reason to conjure they'll be moving her by weeks end, so we best get a move on soon as possible. We'll dock at Greenleaf, like I said and shuttle over to Dyton, posing as traders."

Just then, the cortex screen in the cockpit began beeping loudly, announcing the urgent wave. They all turned to look in the direction of the bridge as Mal headed up the steps to answer the wave, Zoe trailing behind him.

"A thousand platinum? The money alone alludes to the danger," Simon began speaking excitedly.

"Simon."

"River, I know we agreed but, I think - "

"Simon," she interrupted him. "You have to go now."

"Doc! Change of plans," Mal yelled on his way back down the steps.

"What happened?"

"Rock slide slammed into the side of Allan's compound. Couple kids with broken bones, lotta debris, but they still gotta pull some folks out and Allan's leg's been crushed. They need medical help and muscle, but they gotta stay off the radar."

"They can't attract Alliance notice lookin' for medical attention, so we're all the help they got." Zoe's brow was furrowed. She knew as well as they all did that there wasn't enough time to make it back to Perth and still retrieve the girl at Dyton.

"Jayne, you take Inara and the doc back down to the compound in 'Nara's shuttle. Be what help you can. Rest of us gotta go on to Greenleaf."

"I'm not leaving my sister. We can help now and rescue the girl later."

Mal took three long strides forward bringing him up even with Simon. "You got a boulder pinnin' you down and River's five days away with a hu dan holdin' a gun at her head. You really gonna tell me you'd rather we stay and make sure you're all shiny 'fore we go runnin' after her?" he growled.

With that statement, Simon was defeated. He gave Kaylee a quick kiss goodbye and boarded Inara's shuttle along with Jayne, half the medical supplies from the ship, and, of course, Vera.

"I'll see you soon, mei mei. Be careful."

"I will, Simon."

After the crew split up, the four setting a course for Greenleaf and the other three sent on their mercy mission, Mal tracked River down on the catwalk above the cargo bay.

"I thought I'd talk over some particulars with ya, darlin'." River was quiet as she stared across the expanse of the bay. "With Jayne and your brother gone, we gotta change up the plans a mite. We was gonna be takin' you in as traders, but Kaylee and Zo'd be poor excuses for that kind a' smuggler, so looks like it'll be just you an' me. You yóutài with that?" She nodded silently. She hadn't been this quiet since the days just after Miranda. It sent a shiver down his spine. "Now we gotta do one more thing 'fore we dock on Greenleaf." She turned towards him and cocked her head.

"I can't look like me."

"That's right. Now what are we gonna do with ya?"

Mal hadn't shaved for two days. He had another day to work on his beard and enjoy his old familiar haircut before they reached Greenleaf and he and River headed on to Dyton. It was a few hours into the night cycle and he was down in the 'bay sifting through the clothing that Allan had outfitted him with for the men and River's disguises. Jayne woulda' taken a step up in the wardrobe department, and, even though Simon had become more relaxed of late, he'd sure enough have looked out of place too. Mal fished out a dusty grey sweater with black patches on the sleeves, a small couple of tears across the chest. He'd pull out last week's dirty slacks and trade his boots for a pair of combats. It wasn't a far stretch – he'd just look like a delinquent from the other side of the 'verse.

He turned to head back to his bunk and nearly walked straight through River. "Yēsū jīdū, River! Don't go creepin'!"

"I'm sorry," she whispered with that apologetic whine in her voice. "I couldn't sleep."

He reached his hand out and touched the shorn ends of her hair. They wisped and curled unevenly, framing her jaw. She looked more whimsical and possibly more haunted this way. It had an otherworldly effect on her. "You look…" He didn't know what to say.

"I don't look like River."

He shook his head. "Rummage through there, little one. Find somethin' that suits ya, but remember this ain't a beauty pagent. I'm headin' back to my bunk." Mal strode off toward the crew cabins, cursing under his breath as he went.

Restless now, himself, Mal decided to go ahead and buzz his hair tonight. Through the brown fuzz that covered his scalp he could see the faint coma-shaped scar on his right temple. "Shiny," he muttered as his hand ghosted over the old injury. Just then the scrape of metal against metal had him instinctively reaching for his pistol. It wouldn't have been the first time someone disreputable stowed aboard. But when he saw small, bare feet descending the ladder slowly, he holstered his weapon.

"Don't look like Mal," she squeaked when she laid eyes on the Captain's new persona.

"River, you can't be… what are you doin' in here?"

"Can't sleep," she whispered.

Mal thought about it. He'd often passed her in the cockpit in the middle of the night when sleep'd proven treacherous for him in the last handful of days. She'd continued with the quiet routine since 'Nara's shuttle had departed three days ago, only speaking when absolutely necessary to the rest of the crew. "Is it Simon?" he asked, already knowing her answer.

"Fears are unfounded. It's the course we're set on. No ending but the one that happens." She was rambling now, walking in circles around the base of the ladder, making Mal dizzy.

"Whoa, slow down, albatross. What fears?"

She stopped pacing circles and slid down the back wall of the cabin. "He's gone," she said, and he could hear the tears in her voice. Not sobbing tears, but to the brimful and threatening to spill over all the same. "Won't see him again. Said goodbye and meant it."

"Hold on a minute, now," Mal said as he crouched next to River, who had begun shaking slightly but noticeably. "This the longest you an' Simon been apart since the Alliance had hold of ya. That's a scary thing, I conjure. Fear's a real thing, and ok to have now and again. Be stupid not to. Simon's off doin' doctor-y things. You'll see him again in just a few days." But in the back of his mind, Mal couldn't push his own fear far enough away. River was a reader. There wasn't much his albatross didn't see coming.

* * *

><p>Mei mei – little sister<p>

Dàgē – big brother

Yēsū jīdū – Jesus Christ


	3. travel is dangerous

When he opened his eyes the daytime cycle had already begun. His legs were stiff from sitting on the floor all night and his neck had a terrible crick in it. Then he remembered why. A glance to his right confirmed that River was no longer in the cabin with him, so he stood stiffly and grabbed a shirt to throw on before venturing to the cockpit.

He passed Kaylee on his way, trying to downplay the stiffness in his gait. He was usually first on the ship to rise and as a consequence got a strange look from his mechanic.

"You alright, Cap'n?"

"Shiny."

"Well there's… coffee in the pot," she informed him with an amused smile as she continued down the corridor.

He found River sitting in the pilot's chair this morning and took a seat opposite her. "When'd you run out on me last night?" All he could remember was holding the petite girl while she cried, until it seemed she'd cried herself out, and he must've drifted off finally.

"Not long after you'd begun to snore."

"I – _I_ don't snore."

"You snore almost as loudly as you think. I came in here and reprogrammed the flight sequence." He raised his brows and whistled a bit as she told him. "We dock more than twelve hours ahead of schedule now."

"So we do."

Once Serenity had docked, Mal made quick work of instructing his first mate and mechanic to blend in. "Buy parts, see a show, even buy a few new baubles. Be seen 'round town, but stay quiet. We'll wave you when we're headed back. You don't hear from us in three days tops, you get your asses down to Dyton, ya hear?"

"Yup, Cap'n."

"Yes, Sir."

"Where's River?" he asked when he realized he hadn't seen nor heard from her in a few hours.

"She's waitin' on the shuttle, Cap'n. Been in there almost since we docked."

Mal only nodded, then headed out of the cargo bay and to the shuttle, not bothering to say goodbye. Goodbyes were only tempting fate.

He found River seated in the shuttle's pilot chair as he expected. She was still wearing her colorful, flowing skirt and tank, barefoot of course.

"You planning on changin' soon, partner?"

"As soon as we leave atmo," she replied without turning to face him. He peered over her shoulder to see the intell Allan had given them on the operation. "I think we should be together."

"Pardon?" Most of what River said hardly made sense, though he could usually puzzle out her meaning with a little effort, but what she'd just said… it was too out of left field for him to figure out without more elaboration.

"For the job." She turned then to look at him, unblinking. "These men would surely be skeptical of an un-vetted smuggler coming to trade with their operation. It would be a better idea if I were to pose as your lover instead of your slave."

"Whu…" Mal scratched his head. "But why would a couple be lookin' to find a ring of human slave traders?"

"For a sex slave." She said it so matter-of-factly all he could do was blink in response. River turned back to the consol and initiated the flight sequence that would take them to the moon of Dyton. "I'll go change into my disguise now."

Mal was sitting in the seat she had vacated when she re-entered the cockpit. He had been reading over the intell again while she'd been gone, and he had to admit, her suggestion had made sense. He looked up from the view screen when he heard her boots on the floor behind him. She looked like a different girl, but somehow still his lil' albatross just the same. On top was a dark blue sweater that you could see her grey tank through, with black leather pants and her combat boots to finish it all off.

"Where'd the, a, the leather…? That wasn't in the box of clothes."

"I bought them the last time we were at the skyplex."

It was a short ride to Dyton and they were docking by late evening. Most ships had been secured for the night and a transport from the docks to the house wasn't likely to be easy to come by. River's reprogramming of Serenity's flight sequence had given them some extra time so Mal made the call to stay in the shuttle for the night. He'd let River take the Murphy bed and he'd use the extra cot.

The shuttle was dark as he lay on the cot across the cabin from River. After they had lain in silence for over an hour they began to hear the rain pelting down on the outside of the shuttle. Dyton was a wet and gloomy place near three quarters of the cycle and rain wasn't a sound he was used to hearing anymore.

Eventually he drifted off to sleep and into a restless dream. He and River were riding in one of Dyton's water taxis past the slums of the city. Dyton had been set up as a work colony for those disreputable men and women who were to be put to use while working off their debt to society. It had progressed in the last few centuries, though not by much. The factories still rang with the sound of metal on metal, there were more than ample places for a body to drink his platinum away, and even though the place had been established to discourage and rehabilitate the criminal element, crime had a firm foothold here same as anywhere. Maybe more so. There were pretty parts to the city too – gardens, cafés, even a garment and a theater district. This was not where Mal found himself now.

The taxi moored outside a rundown hospital building – not more than concrete and busted out windows. He placed his hands on River's waist and gave her a boost up out of the boat before climbing out after her. As the taxi sped off, he noticed something floating in the wake. Didn't take long to recognize them. They were bodies. They were familiar but their faces kept changing. Not sure what this meant, Mal turned to see if River saw them too. He just caught the trail of her long hair bouncing against her back as she ran through the broken down door of the hospital.

He opened his mouth to call after her, but…

Mal heard the rain against the roof of the shuttle again, felt the rough cotton of the cot under his hands. He opened his eyes tentatively to see River standing over his cot, staring.

"Hey, little one."

"I became concerned about you."

"What for?" He pushed himself into a sitting position and swung his legs off the cot.

"You were dreaming."

"I dream… most nights. There's no cause to worry 'bout dreams." He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wash the sleep away. It had only been a few hours, still a few more to go until daylight. He stood, then, heading to the coffee pot to start the brew.

"Dreams have meaning. Dance through your head, away from your past and into your future. History repeats. Same bad men, different dīliè de yītiān."

She was rambling again. He could only pray to God and the devils she didn't pull this stunt on the job. "Sit down and talk slow. My dream all that's been botherin' you, or is it Simon again?" He left the coffee brewing and steered her back toward her own bed.

"I dream too. Dream of death, of fog, of dead men. I dream of criminals."

"We're criminals too, darlin'." He sighed as she started shaking again and he could see the tears rim her big eyes. "Come here," he said as he sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pulled her close to him. At least she was crying and not raging. Without the doc here to give her a smoother, he wasn't sure he could handle her in that state on his own.

"There's criminals all over, everywhere. Raping, distorting, bleeding and erasing. Nothing left, nothing left, nothing left. Might as well pull the trigger."

"You really up to this, little one?" he asked suddenly, realizing that taking her into an environment of captives and captors might be too similar to what she had experienced at The Academy. He was beginning to see more of the reasoning behind Simon's reluctance to let her join in on _this_ particular job. But just as quick as they'd come, River's tears dried up.

"The job is the job. Separate from that. I know what to do. Who are you?"

"Who? River, you know me, it's Mal." His head was spinning with confusion.

"Your cover ident. What do I call you?" She smirked at him as though he were a simple child.

"Pete Reynolds. Figure s'good to keep some things the same. Feels more natural."

"Pete," she tried out the sound on her tongue and wrinkled her nose at it. "Pistol Pete… Pisto' Pete." She finally settled with the Dyton accent. "_Pistol Pete removes the final breaths from her, unkind and she is shaken. What does this mean, in love or in peace, with you lying next to me, so faithless, serene_." She spoke it in her lilting, singsong voice, almost as though it were a lullaby.

"What's that mean?"

"Just a song. My name is Luna. Nice to meet you."

"My name is Luna Sparrow and this is my lover, Pisto' Pete." Mal rolled his eyes at her overzealous introduction. "We're lookin' for a spot o' trouble – proper trouble. Fancy it takes a downright slumer such as you'self to point us in the right direction."

"Tourists," the taxi captain shook his head as Mal helped River into the boat.

"Could you just take us to this address," he asked as he handed the man a slip of paper.

"You'd be wanting to go elsewhere, mate."

"No. I can promise you. We'd be wantin' to go there, to that address. There's an extra ten platinum in it if you can get us there discrete-like."

"Jus' keep her quiet back there," the captain said as he pushed off from the dock.

_River, you say I think loud, so I hope you can hear me. Don't go jawin' like that in front of these men. They expect women to be seen, not heard and I need you concentrating on the best way to get our cargo and get out. I seen you keep a cooler head than this before, and I need you to do it again. Okay? We're partners in this, we gotta depend on each other, dong-ma? _He just wished it had occurred to him to have this little pep talk with River before they left the shuttle this afternoon. Now she was in full cover ident mode and he couldn't tell if he'd gotten through or not. He slouched forward leaning his elbows on his knees, trying not to think of all those times the plan never seemed to go his way.

Just then, River leaned close and wrapped her arm around his. He looked over and thought he saw what was understanding and agreement in her eyes – a look he had come to know well on Zoe's face though the years. Then she scooted up and kissed his jaw just beneath his ear.

"Shiny."

An overwhelming sense of déjà vu settled over Mal as the taxi drifted past the Dyton slums. Then River's words returned to him – _dreams have meaning._ He glanced at her to gauge her reaction to their present situation. She was leaning back in her seat, gazing out at the dirty streets and polluted river as if she were a queen sailing down the canal in Londinium on her royal barge.

They soon passed through the slums and into the more middleclass residential areas of the city. This was where they would find Cyrus. The taxi stopped at the docks in front of a brick and concrete tenement building.

"I'll take that extra twenty platinum now, mate."

"Ten was the deal," Mal said gruffly as he reached into his pocket to retrieve the coin.

"Three for the ride and twenty for the destination, or thirteen for the ride and a ten spot extra. Either way is fine by me, but I will be getting paid."

"Now I know a man's got a call to make a livin', but that's downright price gouging."

"Well, what would you call a fair shake, then?"

"I called ten fair, but I'd be willin' to kick it up to twelve, just since you been so… pleasant."

"I say you aren't leaving this taxi, dry, for less then eighteen extra. That moonbrain missus of yours surely would look tasty dripping wet. I wouldn't weep to see it myself."

Mal had positioned himself behind the captain's chair, inching closer with every few seconds. "Now, that ain't nice," he said, punctuating the last word with the cock of his pistol held low against the captain's side. "Apologize to the lady."

The water taxi sped off down the canal, the captain no richer than he'd been before deciding to take his last fare.

"You ready, little Luna?" Mal asked as they looked across the slight courtyard at the heavy metal door marked with only the Roman numeral V.

"Yes, but you aren't."

"I'm not?" he asked, startled. "Why not?"

"Barriers and boundaries. They'll never believe you. Malcolm Reynolds doesn't grope. Respects women, even women who don't respect themselves. Mal doesn't brag, or boast, or objectify. Doesn't grab, or stroke, or mark. Are you a decent actor, Captain Reynolds?" They had been approaching unit V as they spoke and were now only steps from the door. "Better start acting now," she said as she reached her hand around to grab Mal's backside. He yelped and she smiled. "That was very demure of you, Cpatain."

A split second before the door opened, River grabbed his hand and wrapped it around her waist to rest on her hip just beneath her sweater.

"Business, mate?" A tall dark haired man with a widow's peak appeared in the doorway. He had a chipped tooth and hard eyes.

Mal surprised River by repositioning himself behind her and using his free hand to sweep her hair away from her neck, mimicking her kiss in the water taxi before speaking to the Doorman. "We're looking for Cyrus."

"Regarding what?"

"A birthday gift for my little sparrow."

* * *

><p>dong-ma – understand?<p> 


	4. honey & mud

Mal sat at a table in the common room of The Triple Door, the brothel in unit V. He had a ball glass of real scotch in his hand as he watched River across the room at the bar flirting with a jìnǚ as they poured each other sake. He tried not to be nonplussed by her behavior but it seemed the best he could do to try and ignore how good she was at this.

"You've had your look at the Triple's merchandise. It seems your bird has even taken to one or two. What kind of arrangement can we come to?" The man from the door had left "Pete and Luna" to their own devices for a few hours and now came to sit across from Mal.

"Well, see it ain't just a night we'd be interested in and we was under the impression..."

"We offer extended engagements."

"We was under the impression that for a price we could purchase a permanent engagement."

The Doorman leaned forward, his relaxed face turning down into a leer. Before the man had a chance to say anything, River was walking toward them with a purpose. Mal wished he knew, not for the fist time, what kind of ideas she had in that feng le head of hers. He gave himself a mental kick as he saw the look of recognition cross her face at the thought of her mental status.

She approached faster now with a somewhat wobbly gait.

"Hey, little Luna."

He didn't get a chance to say anything else before River was straddling his lap, her hands fisted into the collar of his sweater. "Make it real; they're onto you," she whispered directly into his ear, low enough for only him to detect. Then she clamped her mouth down on his in an attempt at what he guessed was supposed to be a passionate kiss. She had said to sell it, but the only thing she was selling was the fact that she was drunk.

Hoping it didn't seem like too much of a delayed reaction, Mal sat his scotch down on the table and brought both hands up, one wrapping into River's hair, the other resting on her cheek, gently guiding her for a smoother – yet no less urgent – kiss. She tasted like cheap raspberry sake, but he could smell the cleaner scent of oats from her shampoo underneath.

After a moment, he realized that his hand had worked its way down from her face to her hip and was pulling her against him. When did that happen? He felt River laugh against his lips. She'd been privy to that thought, alright. Mal suddenly remembered the purpose for their kiss and tilted his head down, putting a little distance between them. Just then he felt River's slender fingers snaking their way underneath his sweater, pulling it up from the hem.

"Whoa, darlin'!" He startled at her advance and grabbed her wrists lightly.

"Sweet, sweet Pisto' Pete. Take me to bed," she practically moaned.

"Oi! Boy-o, best you take the missus to bed," the Doorman chuckled. "She's like to give the lot of us a show, elsewise." He threw Mal a key card. "Top o'the stairs on your left, mate."

Mal looked at the key in his hand and at River, who was hanging onto his shoulder now that he struggled to get both of them to their feet. He was weighing his options. If the scene had gone as well as he guessed, the smugglers had no reason to believe he and River were anything but what they claimed to be. On the other hand, sequestering them upstairs made his stomach a little uneasy. But he recognized the look on River's face and… no, best to get her to a bedroom.

"Ó, qīnài de shàngdì!" she gasped as she came up for air. Mal had his fingers wrapped gently around her hair and he was rubbing her back as comfortingly as possible. There was a puddle of sick in the basin of the tub.

"You sure aim to do your best at anything you try, little one," he said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "Even getting shǐ liǎn."

"I don't think there's anything left."

Mal helped her to her feet and guided her towards the bed. "Can you sit? Need to lean back?" He propped a few pillows behind her and stepped over to the sink. He came back a few seconds later with a glass and a bowl.

"What's that for?"

"You don't know?" His mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. He didn't think he'd ever seen the girl act more normal. "Water. Rinse then spit." She did as he instructed, then he went to refill the water glass at the sink. "Drink all of that. Real slow."

She began taking small-ish sips, though she still hadn't said much.

"Reckon this the first time you been drunk." She nodded, then stared into her glass. "Well, you lost a lot of water being sick, and that'll make your head throb come morning, so just keep drinkin' that till it's gone. Maybe we can find you some strong coffee tomorrow." He feathered his fingers through her hair before suddenly thinking better of it.

"Lots of firsts. First time away from Simon," she sighed. "First undercover job. First brothel. First inebriation. First kiss." She sat the half finished glass of water down beside the bed and slumped into the pillows almost wistfully.

The gravity of what she'd said wasn't lost on Mal. He paced the floor a few times or ten, scrubbing his face with his hands, trying to bring reality back into his mind. Then, figuring River had finally passed out, he knelt down and untied her bootlaces, sliding her feet free of the heavy leather. His boots came off next and he sat gently down on the edge of the bed. When she felt his weight next to her, River opened her eyes.

Mal leaned over slowly, and brushed his lips gently across hers. It wasn't deep or searching this time. "That's what your first kiss should have been like, albatross." She was smiling when he pulled away. "I am so xìngjiāo," he moaned as he lay down next to her. She settled into his arms and smiled again.

"Yeah. Simon's gonna kill you."

Mal woke up a full three hours before sunrise. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty for staying in the bed last night. He'd fully intended to take the floor. But he was glad for it all the same. It was nothing to luxuriate in, but the bed was a good old fashioned queen sized, with a comfort worn feather top over old springs. Even with River lying next to him, he had room to stretch out more than he had since he couldn't remember when.

She was breathing deeply as he eased off of the mattress, ready to go find that coffee he'd promised her. He decided to forgo his boots and padded to the door in his socks, opening it as quietly as he could manage.

The stairs were deserted and the hall was dark, but he could hear sounds coming from the rooms around him that reminded him this was a brothel and not a hotel. He conjured he was the only man in residence last night who'd not partaken in the specialty of the house. A right at the bottom of the stairs brought him back to the common room where he thought he'd remembered seeing a percolator behind the bar.

The room was dark as the hall upstairs had been and he could hear that the rain had started up again, pelting against the windows. There were the remnants of a fire burning in the hearth, and as he crossed the room towards the bar he noticed a movement against the flame.

"Shuí zài nàer?" he asked, squinting into the dark.

"I'm called Porcelina." Her voice was low and very young – younger even than River. "Are you not comfortable in your bed, sir?"

Mal was reminded of the demure way that Saffron had asked her questions and plied her seductions when first he'd met her. It wasn't with the grace that Inara had when working an engagement, but sweetly manipulative, and it left a foul taste in his mouth.

"Plenty comfortable. Just couldn't sleep longer. There coffee to be had?"

"Let me." She swept herself out of her chair and was behind the bar in seconds, reaching into cupboards and drawers.

"What do you do here?" he asked as he watched her move comfortably about the bar.

"I bus tables, sir. Tend a little bar. Watch the doors at night, make sure everyone has what he needs." She took the coffee off of the stove and began pouring a good amount into a ceramic carafe. "It _is_ fresh, sir. I made new not an hour ago. Cream?" she asked as she sat a cup next to the carafe.

He was reminded of the phrase '_the cat that got the cream and can't stop licking himself_'. Needn't go there. "No. But another cup would do just shiny." She turned to retrieve a second cup, placing it inside the first. As he reached for the carafe and cups, ready to head back upstairs, he felt her hand clamp down on his wrist.

"Tread lightly. You don't know everything that goes on here."

It was a hurried whisper more than a threat, though he supposed it could be taken either way. As he opened his mouth to pose a question, he heard boots on the floor behind him, and instead gave the girl a curt nod.

"And how are you finding our establishment this morning, Mr. Reynolds?" It was the Doorman. He was dressed similarly to Mal, though his pistol was now visible at his hip underneath the white t-shirt, where his sweater had concealed it a few hours ago. Mal had left their guns upstairs with River.

"Fákuǎn. Takin' some strong coffee upstairs to the sparrow. That sake of yours nearly did her in."

"I hope it didn't _interfere_ with your evening?" There was a twinkle in the man's eye that Mal didn't like.

"I can't complain." He turned back to the girl behind the bar. "Thank you, Porcelina," he said before facing the Doorman again. "She's doing a right shiny job of making sure everyone has what he needs."

He sat on the end of the bed relishing the feeling of the warm porcelain in his hands. He knew she would wake up soon – not sure how, but he knew. He had already placed a cup of the steaming, dark brew on the nightstand. There was something about the feel of the chipped and graying china cup in his hand that made their unsavory surroundings seem almost homey.

"Ooph…" River stirred in the bed behind him.

"Take it slow sittin' up," he said. "There's…"

"Thank you," she said, cutting him off. He turned and saw her sitting upright already, lifting the coffee cup to her lips.

"Not the only one who needed it, lil' one." He raised his cup to her before taking another long sip. "Was there much you were able to glean last night? I conjure… cause, you know, your distraction… they think we ain't quite right?"

"Succinctly, yes."

"I'm to try to talk to Cyrus today. See if we can get an in at dungeon alley. Then we've still gotta find her and figure a way to get her out." Mal's head was throbbing as though he were the one with the hangover. He'd turned away from River a few moments ago to give her some privacy to fully wake up, and now felt her moving on the bed behind him. Suddenly her hands were resting on his temples and he could feel the residual warmth from her coffee cup in her fingers.

"His head is pounding. Vessels throbbing with his pulse. Breathe, Captain Reynolds."

He stood then, the contact becoming too much at the moment. "There was a jìnǚ downstairs said…"

"You don't know everything that goes on here." She imitated the girl's tone perfectly. It was downright ghostly.

"Yeah. What's that mean?"

"Don't know. She's only reading your memory of it."

It suddenly struck him that that might not be all she was reading from his head. "That's not polite," he snapped, more forcefully than intended. There were things it wasn't right for her to pull out of a man's head when he wasn't prepared for it. Last night…

"You project things, Captain. Not my fault."

"I'm going to ask after Cyrus," Mal said as he stood. "We're running up on the deadline."

* * *

><p>Ó, qīnài de shàngdì – O, my god<p>

shǐ liǎn – shit faced

xìngjiāo – fucked

Shuí zài nàer - who's there?

Fákuǎn – just fine

Jìnǚ – female prostitute


	5. two tongues in your mouth

While he was gone from the room, River surveyed the damage from the night before. The tub in the corner of the room needed rinsing badly so she set to that work first. While the water slowly drained, she pulled the covers over the bed and stacked the dishes on the side table in the bowl Mal had given her to rinse her mouth out last night. There was a cracked and dusty mirror hanging above the bed. Why was that hanging _there_? She surveyed herself and determined she needed a bath.

As much as she loved Serenity – and she did love Serenity fiercely enough to rival her Captain – it had been ages since she had been able to take a real bath instead of using the ship's shower room. At one time she had thought of Simon trapped on the ship as one of the cows they had smuggled to the rim - _They weren't cows inside. They were waiting to be, but they forgot. Now they see sky, and they remember what they are._ He was waiting to remember who he was. Though, she hadn't thought that about herself. Serenity was her home and the ship spoke to her – maybe in a different way than it spoke to Kaylee, or Mal – but it spoke to her. Sometimes it sounded like Wash. Still, she remembered baths, and when she sank down into the warm water it made her feel more human than she had since she came out of the cryo unit into Serenity's cargo bay over two years ago.

As comforting and humanizing as the water felt, she didn't dawdle. She could tell Mal was on his way back to the room.

When he walked in, she was making a puddle on the floor, clutching a towel around her slight frame.

"Whoa, h-hi. I'll go." He turned to go back through the door when River spoke.

"No, stay there. Just don't turn around. Tell me what happened."

Mal stood, still facing the door as he heard the towel drop to the floor. "You already know what I'm gonna say."

"Trying to stay out," she said, tapping her head even though Mal wasn't looking. She gathered up her clothes and started pulling them on as quickly as possible.

"The, uh, The Triple Door pretty much shuts down during the daylight, as you can conjure." He cleared his throat, trying to clear his mind of the images flooding it. "We been left to our own devices till dusk. That's when we meet with Cyrus, try to find the girl." He shuffled his feet uncomfortably and turned around, realizing too late that she might not be decent. But she was, lacking only her sweater and boots.

She sat, cross-legged on the bed, running her fingers through her drying hair and he could only stand staring for a moment. Suddenly, they heard the electronic locking mechanism seal the door.

"Go neong yung duh!" Mal shouted as he turned to the now locked door. River sat calmly on the bed behind him. "You see that comin'?"

"Yes."

"Well, yo hua kwai suo! Why didn't ya tell me?"

"Because you would have tried to prevent it and then they would surely see us coming. Is it not better to maintain the element of surprise? They'll hold us here the day, and keep their word tonight about meeting with Cyrus." She said it so calmly like this had been her plan all along, and damn if it hadn't been. "We've both been in worse situations, Captain." She knew he couldn't argue with that.

"So, what now?"

"Now we wait."

Mal spent the first few hours checking and re-checking the mechanisms of both guns. "You readin' anything off anybody, lil' one?" he finally asked River, who had been sitting in the cold bathtub.

She cocked her head to the side in that way he noticed she had when things were about to go peculiar. Maybe it was just how she looked when she was using her abilities. "A few jìnǚ and their johns. They know nothing about the extent of Cyrus' business. Your girl from this morning must be gone, along with the Doorman."

Mal placed the guns on the bed and sat down on the floor next to the tub, facing River. At this point he estimated they had more than eight hours until dusk, and he didn't plan to expend his energy pacing the small room. "So. What ya conjure?"

"What was it like for you?"

"Huh?" He'd been asking about what she might be planning, sitting there so quietly. It hadn't occurred to him that her mind could be anywhere other than where his had gone – to the plan.

"Times like last night. For you. The first times. What were they like?"

He blinked as he sat there trying to decode her meaning. "Undercover? Darlin', I ain't quite understanding where you're goin' with this." As he shook his head questioningly, she timidly reached her fingers out to brush his lips. "Whoa, oh, uh…" He leaned away from her touch as she drew her hand back into the tub with her. "You don't need to be askin' me those kinds a questions."

"Why not? Nobody thinks she needs to know, but they forget – she knows. She knows what they do, she knows what they feel, but nobody wants to tell her."

"Maybe it'd be best if you talked with Simon about…"

"No, he's my brother and he wants me to be his gorram mei mei forever. Can't talk to Simon."

Mal suddenly felt very uncomfortable. The idea of talking to River about experiences – his experiences – was unsettling. Then he realized that she could search his head and pick out any one of his memories if she felt so inclined. "I guess you already know what I'm about to say?"

"I do, but I like to hear you say it."

He smirked, then, remembering the last time they had exchanged similar words. "You see one of those dust storms last we was on Whitefall?" She nodded. "I guess anybody's first anything ain't a whole bunch different from one a' those dust storms. I remember the first time I snuck a horse outta my ma's barn. And the first day we got Serenity up and off the docks. That was a glorious sight to see. It meant freedom." He remembered the day he'd shown the ship to his second: _I tell you, Zoe, we get a mechanic, get her up and running again, hire a good pilot, maybe a cook. Live like real people. A small crew. Them as feel the need to be free. Take jobs as they come. They never have to be under the heel of nobody ever again. No matter how long the arm of the Alliance might get... we'll just get ourselves a little further. _ "I guess I'm getting a bit off course here."

"We have plenty of time."

"Well, those dust storms. A person's heard tell of 'em, knows they exist. But it's a whole other thing when it comes upon you. It's never quite what you expected." Mal hoped his answer was decent enough without getting any more specific.

"Not what she expected," River whispered as she held her fingers up to her mouth.

"It should a happened different for you."

"You're not a bad man, Mal," she said, now reaching for his hand.

"I didn't say I was." He looked down at her other hand, now joining the first, pulling him closer.

"You can't stop thinking it."

He felt his face redden. "River." If she knew he was thinking that, then… "Let me explain."

"You don't have to. I know. So many reasons why you can't." She kept pulling him closer as she talked, now only the tub wall and a few inches separating them.

Mal swallowed hard. "Yeah," he said gruffly. "Reasons."

"Like… I'm a part of your crew. And we're on a job. I'm barely twenty and I'm feng le."

"No," he said firmly. It was the one thing she'd said that hadn't come out of his brain. "You ain't crazy." He paused before continuing. "You just… ain't quite right."

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly at their private joke, but she didn't finish it.

"River, this is thin ice you're skatin' over." He spoke it as a warning to both of them.

"It's not going to break," she whispered.

"What if it does?" Mal found himself leaning closer.

"I can swim."

He kissed her then, finding it difficult to breath, and not wanting to. He couldn't push away the feeling that he was falling into some sort of trance. Maybe she was a witch, but she was his witch. He knew what he was doing was wrong on so many levels; that there were a million reasons in the 'verse to stop; that he never should have begun; they were on a job and this would only serve to complicate things. But no matter how logically he could think of the repercussions of his actions, he couldn't un-ring a bell.

Repeating last night, Mal ducked his head, breaking their contact. Best to stop it now. He gasped for air as he realized he was still holding his breath.

"Splash," River whispered as she stood up in the tub to step over the side and move across the room.

"Huh." Mal was still sitting on the floor staring into the empty porcelain basin. He was having that feeling again, the one he'd had on Serenity as he watched River fall. Now he was sitting here, waiting for the fallout. "Well, that was…"

"Inappropriate."

"Unexpected, is what I was gonna say." He ran his hand from the back of his short-cropped scalp, over his face, blowing out another long breath. "What exactly is it you're trying to do here, River? 'Cause I have to tell ya, you got me mighty confused."

"Don't know, but I liked it. You did too."

"Well, I ain't supposed to. I'm twice your age, gorramit." There wasn't any force behind his words, though. "And I'm your boss… sorta." He shook his head and stood up, crossing the room to where she sat on the bed. "And you," he whispered crouching on the floor in front of her so they were at eye level. "You shouldn't be feelin' these things with me. You deserve… different."

"Don't talk about what we deserve, Mal." She reached out and let her fingers slowly ghost over the scar on the side of his head. "That's a pointless exercise for us both." How many times would she have to tell him, in how many different ways, that she wanted this?

* * *

><p>Go neong yung duh – son of a bitch<p>

feng le – crazy


	6. walk in the dream

He lowered his head closer to hers, until he was touching her forehead with his. "Shénme tā mā de wǒ zài zuò?" he whispered.

"This." River ducked her head slightly until their lips could meet. She stopped there, waiting for him to take the initiative.

"You're gonna have to tell me when to stop, darlin'. It's been a minute and I don't know if I can stop myself."

"Okay," she said.

Mal pressed his mouth against hers before she had finished speaking the word. As he stood he wrapped his arms around her petite frame and pulled her up with him. He could feel her muscles vibrating beneath her pale skin. He lifted her as he placed his knee on the edge of the bed, scooting them both forward. Her hands were working at his sweater, trying to separate the heavy material from his lightweight t-shirt beneath. He let her go long enough to slide his sweater off. When he looked at her again she was pushing her leather pants down over her hips.

Mal looked like she had slapped him across the face and for a minute she was afraid he would stop altogether. But when he resumed kissing her, setting his hands on the warm skin just above her panties, she smiled to herself. "Fears are unfounded," she whispered into his mouth.

"Are you afraid of something?" he asked gruffly, obviously not wanting to pull away.

"No."

"You wouldn't tell me anyway, would you?" The right side of his mouth cocked up into a crooked grin as he brushed a few strands of hair off of her face. He didn't give her time to answer before he brushed his lips across her mouth and jaw, ending the movement just below her ear where he let his tongue play for a moment.

A wave of heat hit her like opening the cargo bay doors on a hot summer morning. She let out a little gasp, mimicking his surprised 'huh'. Mal played with her like that for a while, giving in where she showed she wanted more, then pulling back to make sure he hadn't gone too far. He let his hands explore her, but doing so and keeping his thoughts yóutài was proving difficult. He jerked when he felt her small hands tugging at his belt buckle.

"That ain't a good idea, little one." He pushed up on his forearms, making a depression in the mattress to either side of her. "Man needs to be thinking straight before a fight. Some reason, I feel it's gonna go that way."

"They used to preclude women from joining in combat for the same reason," River said, running her fingertips along his waistline. "Men felt the need to compete for and protect the weaker sex. It took their minds off the battle, where it should have been focused. It's really very archaic and sexist."

"Be that as it may, they never saw you fight. I'll be needing you to save my pìgu, more like than not." He smiled and grabbed her hand away from his belt. Repositioning himself beside her, he shifted onto his side and pulled her close in to his chest. "That being said, I still wouldn't want to be caught with my pants down."

"You're still scared of me," River whispered into his t-shirt.

"Scared for you, little albatross." Mal ran his fingers through her hair once more. "Better than six hours till dusk. Close your eyes and rest."

She was asleep in minutes, worn out from the remnants of last night coupled with the excitement of the morning, and he was soon to follow.

This time he was back in the internment camp they had been taken to after Serenity Valley. The smell was almost palpable. The metal grating that served as separation between the cells and common areas of the holding facility dug into his shoulder as he leaned against the wall, not sleeping but not waking either. Zoe lay against the other side of the grating in a similar state of half-sleep. Since the first night, they had allowed as little distance between them as possible – if they couldn't protect each other through the barriers, at least they could bare witness to each other's pains. Mal's were fewer and Zoe's were many. The cells were unisex, housing both male and female soldiers, and after the first purple belly had taken his turn with Zoe, the tā mā de chà excuses for men had tried their hands at her. She'd put an end to it and quickly, but the guards had stun guns and other toys to help them get the job done.

Heavy footfalls on the metal floor outside roused Mal from his dozing and he snapped his attention immediately to the cell door. He shared the cell with four other men, none from the Valley. They'd all arrived before the war had been lost. All ten eyes lit on the door as it opened and a new prisoner was tossed in. She was in her teens – not old enough to be fighting for the Browncoats or the Alliance.

"Traitors can go," the guard yelled as he stepped into the cell.

Three months since the battle'd been lost and they were finally being released. Mal stood and began making his way out the cell door into the hallway when he noticed that the guard and new prisoner weren't following him.

"Mal? Sir!"

He turned to see Zoe walking weakly towards him. Bruises covered her arms from blocking punches and she had a busted lip, but he knew her scars went much deeper. She stumbled into his arms and he held her un-ashamedly. She was his soldier, his second, his family.

He glimpsed a few children huddled together in the cell that Zoe had just vacated. "Who…?"

"Political prisoners. Children of those folks won't recognize unification. Mostly from the core planets, but there's a few from the rim, looks like, too."

Mal heard a noise from the cell he'd been loath to consider his for the past three months, and took a step forward to see what the commotion was. The guard held the young girl by her hair, wrenching her head back, forcing sobs from her throat; he knew exactly what would happen next. "Mǔqīn bèndàn!" he yelled as he headed for the guard. Suddenly he felt a pressure on the side of his head and a white light exploded behind his eyes, just before pain and darkness flooded them.

When he woke up it was River's face that floated at the edge of his vision. She was straddling his waist, her head cocked to the side in that expression that had become so familiar over the past few years.

"You weren't ok," she whispered.

He placed his hand on her chest, his palm more than spanning the space between her ribcage, and his fingertips resting on her sternum. He let it stay there, feeling her inhale and exhale for several moments before he said anything. "That was a long time ago." He looked past River into the dim room. There was almost no light coming in from the skylights and the only illumination was from the small lamp by the sink. "What time is it?" He moved his hand from her chest and it came to rest on her hip; she still wore only her tank and panties.

"Nearly dusk. Or 4:52pm. There are people returning to the house."

"How much time have we got?"

"Very little," River answered. Just then they heard the sound of the door unlocking.

"That was an understatement," Mal muttered under his breath.

The door opened to admit a scruffy-looking man in his twenties. He swayed and looked like he was well acquainted with the drops. "Looks as you had a right good time bein' locked in together," he grinned sleepily seeing River still straddling Mal, both in various states of undress. "Come downstairs then. We goin' t' the alley."

Dressed again, and guns concealed, Mal and River headed downstairs to the common area of the brothel. As they entered the room, River slipped her hand into Mal's. He stiffened for only a second before striding forward as if it was second nature to him. The strung out man was there as well as another thug, and Mal's acquaintance from that morning, Porcelina.

"Where's Cyrus?"

"Good evening to you, then," the girl said. Then, turning to River, "And you, Miss."

From the corner of his eye, Mal saw River shoot the jìnǚ a sly grin. He huffed and focused on the muscle standing across from him.

"Cyrus don't come to you, mate. You go to him. We 'av a transport waitin'."

Mal turned to the door, about to head out when the muscle stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"Since we all gentlemen 'ere, why don't you give us your guns so we can have a proper civilized meeting, eh?"

Mal grinned broadly, "Are you suggesting I'd not be civil?" He un-holstered his weapon and handed it over to the thug.

"An' the missus, too."

Mal was prepared to look downright offended by the suggestion that River would be concealing weapons, but she quickly removed her .38 from her boot and handed it to the man. As he smiled at her and began to turn away, she fished into the waistband at her right hip and removed another 9mm.

"About finished?" he asked, amused.

"Done, Love," she replied sweetly in her Dyton accent that was still somewhat creepy to hear coming out of her mouth.

With that the five of them shuffled out the door onto the darkening street by the water. There was a large transport vehicle hovering a few feet in from the dock. It looked to fit in with their surroundings, though the windows were much too tinted to be a simple suburban transport. The muscle opened the door and motioned for the two of them to climb in the back. Mal helped River up and into the dark interior. He glanced behind him before following her in. His stomach was beginning to feel that uneasy fluttering that happened before a fight.

Porcelina climbed into the back with them as the thug took to the controls, and the transport headed away from the water and into the heart of Dyton Colony. Nothing of the outside could be seen through the windows in the back. Mal twisted in his seat to try to see what he could through the front window, though his distance from the street put him at a disadvantage.

"Porcelina, this' Luna. Luna," Mal began the introductions as he registered the transport banking left.

"Paz," the girl whispered. "Call me Paz."

"You always part of the escorting party?" Mal asked. He noticed River had closed her eyes and leaned her head against one of the blacked out windows.

"Stay close to me and don't provoke them. I can get you out." her voice was so low now, Mal could barely hear her over the hum of the engine. "Paul is perpet'ally stoned. He'll be easily discarded. Tug, though... he's a bigger boy-o and not one for the drops. I hope you didn't give up all your weapons," she said, hiking her skirt up enough to expose a blade and a .38, similar to the one River had surrendered, strapped to her thigh.

Without thinking, Mal let out a soft whistle. Tug – the muscle – turned in the drivers seat just in time to see Paz lower her skirt. "Porce keepin' you entertained back there, Mister Reynolds?"

"That she is," Mal answered sincerely enough.

"Your bird is oft'ly quiet, eh?"

"She's… well," Mal glanced at River who was still leaning hard against the tinted glass. "She's a mite tired, if you get my meaning."

"That I do," the man chuckled and turned back to the controls. "Cozy up t'the customer, Porce, Love. Keep 'im company t' pass the time."

Glancing from Mal to River, Paz slid from her seat across from them to kneel on the floor of the transport. She placed her hand on either side of Mal's hips and he stiffened instantly, clenching and unclenching his jaw, glancing at River.

"Make it real," River breathed, barely making a sound.

But Mal heard her and he understood. He didn't feel any less abhorrent for what he was about to do, remembering how they had spent the past few hours. Taking hold of Paz's wrists, he pulled her up to sit on the bench seat next to him. Then, grabbing a handful of hair at the nape of her neck, he tilted her head back and kissed her. Hard.

Returning his kiss with enthusiasm, Paz reached down and took hold of him roughly. He let out a surprised grunt, unable to react at first. Then his hands moved to her waist and he lifted her onto his lap, straddling him, forcing her to let go and drape her arm around his neck. She broke her mouth away from his and leaned forward to whisper in Mal's ear.

"I don't know what you're playin' at, but I do know a couple things. One thing – they don't plan on drivin' you back to the brothel and they ain't droppin' you back at whatever ship brought you here. Moan a bit." Mal caught on and let out a heady growl. "Two, this is the first, and might well be the last chance I got to get out of th' operation. So I'm takin' it. Tā mā de zhège zhùcè and I _will_ leave you in the dirt. Dong ma?"

Mal opened his mouth to speak, but River cut him off before he'd had a chance to begin. "There isn't time," she whispered.

As Mal turned to look at her he felt the transport stop and the engine begin to slow to a dull whine. Tug tossed three heavy blindfolds into the back, nearly hitting Mal in the face.

"Soon as you're ready, we can be on our way."

"There's three," Mal said questioningly.

"One for your bird, one for you, and t'other for th' doxy. Quickly, now."

* * *

><p>Shénme tā mā de wǒ zài zuò – what do we do now?<p>

Pìgu – ass

Mǔqīn bèndàn – mother fucker

tā mā de zhège zhùcè – fuck this up


	7. welcome, ghosts

As he helped River secure the blindfold around her own head, Mal glanced at Paz, seeing the bravado drain from her features and a look of fear settled inter her eyes as they focused on the blindfold in her hands.

Mal stumbled out the back of the transport, holding River's hands to help her maneuver her way down to the street after him. He heard Paz stumble out and then they were herded together into a building about ten yards ahead. There was a smell of dampness and charred wood as he picked his way along behind Tug. He tried to keep his mind on the obstacles he encountered so River would have an easier journey. She squeezed his hand in thanks. After about five minutes, they were led down a flight of stairs and into a large room – he could feel the space around him as their footsteps echoed, similar to the sounds in Serenity's cargo bay. After a few more yards they traveled up several flights of stairs – about three levels, best he could conjure – and were then led through a set of large, heavy doors. There was a smell of cleaner air in this room, though the char was replaced by the scent of cigarette smoke.

"Here they is, Sir," Tug announced to the room.

"Go hwong tong," Mal grunted as he reached his hands up and pulled the cloth from his eyes.

"Now you've gone and ruined the surprise, Reynolds," The Doorman – Cyrus – said with a smile on his face. "I haven't everything ready for you yet."

"You… 're Cyrus?"

"Bring them in," Cyrus said to no one in particular. Mal heard a door open as he surveyed the room around him. There was a large oak table serving as a desk, with two large screens hanging on the wall behind it. One displayed the cortex while the other cycled through various famous works of art. In the foreground there were plush sofas and rich carpets in abundance.

A stream of girls began to file in from a door to the left of the room. There were about twelve when the last one came through. Mal could feel his mouth open in an 'o' of surprise. He wasn't prepared for what stood in front of him.

"What's the matta', Reynolds? Let your bird pick her pressie." Cyrus closed the space between them in seconds, standing next to River. He reached his hand around behind her to unfasten the blindfold, "Let me help you, Love."

She stood with her eyes closed for several seconds after the cloth fell away from her face. She knew already from Mal's mind what she would see when she opened them, and she was in no hurry. After several deep breaths she slowly lifted her lashes glancing quickly at the women and then away.

"Not here." She had searched every mind in the crowd for the girl. There wasn't a single memory of her name, her brother's name, or anything from the intel Rick Allen had given them. Beyond that, there wasn't even a single memory in any of their minds of anything before this building or the brothel. What was even more disturbing was their appearance. Clean, relaxed, and even modestly dressed. It wasn't right. None of it was right.

"You sure, boa bei?" _Try to stay calm. Act normal, darlin'_, Mal thought to her as she took his hand again and turned to burry her face in his arm.

"Yes. Not her. Not here," she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

"What is she on about?" Cyrus demanded.

"We just… This everybody?" Mal asked in response. "We heard tell of a specific doxy. An 'Elise'. You got an Elise?"

Cyrus shook his head, "That's a real pretty name, though. How'd you like to be called Elise, Love?"

"D'un yi shia! What's that supposed to mean?" Mal asked, on guard.

"G'en ho tze bi dio se, qing wa cao de liu mang!" River yelled – the last words completely devoid of her Dyton accent – just before launching herself at Cyrus.

Mal took hold of River about the waist, bringing her to the floor with him before she connected with the da gher da.

"Ni ta ma de!" she shouted as she swung her elbow back, slamming into Mal's solar plexus. Mal doubled over, trying to recover his breath as he heard Cyrus begin to chuckle.

Free to move again, River cut off the slaver's laughter with a _yup cha ki_ to the side of his head. As her foot hit the ground she launched herself into a _do ra cha ki_ bringing him to the ground.

Before she could land another blow, Mal watched as Tug came to his master's rescue, knocking River in the back of the skull with a metal billy club. "Nee tzao se mah, ta ma duh?" He screamed, scrambling to his feet, before the world went black for them both.

River kept her eyes closed as she came to. The florescent light overhead accentuated the pounding in her skull. "I hit you. I'm sorry."

"That my sweet little pilot, or the angry '_ni ta ma de_' girl who's talking?" Mal asked from his seat on the floor. There was a bench in the cell and he had sat there with her head in his lap until he realized he wasn't doing any good that way. He had laid her out as gentle as he could and began circling the room, looking for a way out. No dice, though.

"I had to."

"Cai bu shi," he muttered.

"You wouldn't have let me attack him otherwise."

"Gorram right. And we might not be in this very fine detention cell right now, cept that you did."

"Wouldn't have _her_." River stretched and sat up on the bench, her eyes still closed.

"We _don't_ have her."

"We are right where we need to be."

"Maybe you could explain that to me, then?" Mal stood and began pacing the cell, trying to expend some of his nervous energy.

"Did you notice, Captain? Who wasn't brought into that room with us?"

"Porce- er… Paz. Where is she?" He stopped to stand in front of River, attention focused now.

"Did you like… her?" River whispered. "When she… In the transport?"

Mal knelt in front of her bench, running his hand over his face, trying to prioritize the problems at hand. River was fragile – that hadn't changed in a long time. He was humped now, after what had gone on with the girl this morning. But, more importantly, they were bein' held by a bunch of terribly disreputable folk, with no immediate out in sight. And maybe Paz was part of it. He had to put her feelings aside for the moment.

"She who we here for?" he asked. "Paz? Is she Elise Allen?"

"Yes, but she doesn't know it. Neither did I… until you asked Cyrus about her."

"You got a plan, little one?"

"They're coming in a few moments. You have to let them take me."

"Jien ta duh guay," he shot back, brushing his fingers across the wound the club had left on the side of her head.

"They'll take me to where she is. You'll protest, but not so much that they injure you irrevocably. It's important, Captain."

He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. He had a feeling it was a waste of time to argue at this point. "How much time we got?"

"Not enough."

As he let out a heavy breath, he heard the door behind them begin to slide open. He didn't turn, but kept his attention on River. She reached up to brush her fingers over his bottom lip.

"_Important_," she whispered.

Mal gave a slight nod as he heard three sets of footfalls entering the cell.

"'Time to break up the two lovers,' Cyrus says. So, com'on, Dovey. Come wiv' us nice an' slow-like."

Now Mal turned to see Tug, still holding the billy club, moving slowly into the room. There was another bit of hired muscle standing just inside the doorway, holding what looked to be an electrified cattle prod. The third man was more slight of build. He was standing behind the other two, as if for protection from the prisoners.

"You're bai lih mohn if you think that's happenin'," Mal said as he placed himself between River and Tug.

The thug took a weak swipe in Mal's direction with the club, but missed. Mal knew how to play the game and threw a punch of his own, causing Tug to sidestep to avoid it. Unfortunately, the maneuver had placed him between Mal and River. Tug reached out with his free hand to pull River up from the bench.

"Hands off, ta ma duh!" He shouted, knocking Tug back into the cell wall with the full force of his fist this time.

The second man took his opportunity to approach from behind and grabbed Mal around the throat with a hand that was easily twice the size of Jayne's. Mal could feel his airway close off almost immediately. Trying to conserve what breath he had left, he reached back with both hands, blindly searching for his attacker's eyes.

Before he could do any damage, Mal heard an electric hum from somewhere to his right. He was almost out of air and could hear a rushing of blood in his ears, but beneath that and the noise of the cattle prod, he could hear River.

"Stop! Please, d'un yi shia! I'll go with you."

"Choo fay wuh suh leh!"

At his outburst the thug jabbed the buzzing prod into Mal's side. He tried to grind his teeth through the pain but couldn't stop the end of his scream escaping his throat.

"Just don't hurt him anymore!"

Mal felt the grip on his throat loosen as he slid to the ground. He forced his eyes open against the residual pain in time to see the third man grab River by the arm to drag her from the cell. "Ping ming, měi lì", he managed to say before the second shock from the prod sent him into darkness.

When he opened his eyes again he was blinded by the florescent lights swinging on their cords above him. Then River's face floated into view.

"Told you not to let them injure you."

Mal blinked a few times, trying to bring the two images of River into focus but they just wouldn't solidify into one. Then he realized, not just River, but Paz was looking down on him.

"The damage is not irreparable," River said as she placed his own pistol back into his hand. "Let's go."

Mal stood, tucking the gun into the back of his waistband, and turned back to look at Paz. The girl also brandished a gun, if awkwardly, and nursed a bloodied lip.

"Well," Mal looked at Paz. "The lady said to move. Ya comin'?"

They made their way back through the labyrinthian compound without incident, thanks to River and the reading of Paul and Tug that she had done on the way in. As they ascended the final set of stairs near the exit, River held up her hand in warning. "There's only one of them. But he's been told to watch for you and I."

"I'll go."

They both turned to look back at Paz.

"No," Mal said firmly. "You're banged up enough, you're in no condition to..."

"We're all hurt. He's at least not expecting me," she said, heading up the steps. Mal was left with little choice but to listen for the violence that would surely come next.

"Sound like Simon," mumbled River.

"I'm just trying to protect our cargo," he shot back. Then, realizing what she had said, "And what do you mean, I 'sound like Simon'?"

At the top of the steps Paz could see the man standing guard. One man, facing outward. She smiled. No one knew about the operation or where to find it. This man was there to turn folk away. Their heaviest guard would be posted on the interior of the building, focused on keeping the girls inside. Once you were past them – which, thanks to the feng le offworlder, they already were – it would be near nothing to get past this one man.

She tongued the cut on her lip and felt that it had begun to scab over. Taking a silent breath she bit down until she tasted blood. Her eyes began to water and she let the moisture pool, threatening to spill over. Then, doing her best to stumble, she moved forward loudly enough for the guard to hear.

"Oi! Where'd you come from?" He reached for the com unit at his hip.

"They want the transport ready. Now! Cyrus has no patience, as I can tell ya," she gestured toward her lip. "They'll be movin' those two back out. Comin' up in minutes now." She'd taken small steps with each word flowing from her mouth, bringing her closer to the confounded guard. "Gan kwai! Please!" She fell to her knees at the man's feet.

The guard slowly moved his hand away from the com unit and focused on the poor wretch's gashed lip. "C'mon, Lovey. No use weepin'. That's how they is, the bosses. Stand up now. We'll get the transport goin', soon as I get som'un up here to watch th' door."

As he reached down to help her up, he focused on her deep bosom. Too late he felt the cold metal coming up and stick in his gut.

Mal stopped speaking when he realized River had been listening to something else all along. The following sound of a gunshot was unmistakable.

He quickly glanced up the steps and back at River before making his decision.

"The guard is down," River called as he took the steps two at a time.

"Down or dead?"

"His respiration continues. But it's slowing." she was on his heels now. "Now he's dead," she supplied seconds later.

Despite River's proclamation and the pool of blood next to the body, when Mal reached the guard he knelt to check for a pulse. "Gut shot." He looked up at River, who was standing straight and still, staring into the dead man's eyes. "Paz?"

"Took the transport." River shifted her gaze from the dead guard to Mal as he ran to the open door.

"Ta ma duh yao nu!" There was no sign of the vehicle that brought them there, but there were a few others. "We're gonna need a ride outta here real quick lil' one. You think you can…"

"Bypass construct firewalls by hacking the navigation computer and force an ignition sequence. Yes."

"I was fixin' to pick up and come lookin' for ya, Sir," Zoe said over the cortex screen in the shuttle.

"We were set off track a bit, but we'll be home on Serenity less than an hours time. Have Kaylee get her ready. We leave Greenleaf soon as we're docked."

"Yes, sir. You got any followers?"

"Don't look like it," Mal sighed. "But I'm fair certain I could be wrong." He switched off the wave and swiveled in his chair to look at River sitting amongst the pile of old clothes that had been their disguises.

"Not right." She was shaking her head. "Something's not right."

"Ain't right we don't get the second half of our payday. Every ta ma de job!"

"Those girls. They weren't right."

"There weren't nothin' right about that operation, darlin'." River looked up at the quaking in Mal's voice as he said it. "Not a fuckin' thing."

* * *

><p>Go hwong tong – enough of this nonsense<p>

boa bei – sweetheart

D'un yi shia – wait a second

G'en ho tze bi dio se, qing wa cao de liu mang - Engage in a feces-hurling contest with a monkey, frog-humping son of a bitch

Ni ta ma de – fuck you

Nee tzao se mah, ta ma duh – you wanna die, motherfucker?

Cai bu shi – yeah, right

jien ta duh guay – like hell

bai lih mohn – daydreaming

d'un yi shia – wait

Choo fay wuh suh leh – over my dead body

Ping ming, měi lì - Hold nothing back, beautiful

Gan kwai – hurry up

Ta ma duh yao nu – damn demon woman


	8. Butterflies and Hurricanes

Kaylee and Zoe were making their way up to the shuttle entrance when the door slid open emitting Mal and, shortly after, a shaken River.

"Set a course for Perth," Mal instructed her, glancing over his shoulder as he descended the stairs heading quickly for his bunk.

"Cap, you're hurt'," Kaylee exclaimed as he passed her on the landing.

"Ain't bleedin', Kaylee. Serenity ready to go?"

"Sure as she flies. Oughtta let Zoe patch that..."

"Go hwong tong!" he cut her off. "Got better things to do than lick my wounds. Get busy. We got crew to get back on our boat."

Kaylee recoiled a bit and Mal mentally cursed himself, but still kept course. He tried waving Inara in case there was a chance the companion, doctor and mercenary could slip quietly away and meet up with Serenity just outside atmo without Allen being the wiser. There was no answer from the companion's shuttle.

He leaned back in his seat and tapped his boot on the floor, mentally counting the days. Seven. Seven days since they left their crew members on Perth. And Allen would be expecting a wave by the eighth day, latest.

He took a moment to register the boat wasn't movin'. "Tian xia suo you de ren dou gai si," he muttered as he climbed the ladder out of his bunk. A glance down the corridor told him the bridge was empty. No sign of his pilot at the galley end either.

Heavy boots treading on the walkway, Mal made for the controls his gorram self. Shortly after breaking atmo he heard footfalls behind him. They weren't delicate enough to be River's, even wearing her huge combat boots. "Zoe," he said without turning.

"Sir."

"Ain't got much more've a plan then what we already been through. You got some wisdom, I'd like to hear it. If not..."

"If not, Sir?"

"Then go find my pilot, tell her to get up here and do her job."

"No," Zoe relplied flatly.

"No?"

"Not just yet, no."

"Oh that's just fine! What the guay I do to deserve this kind of...? No?"

"Bao xin jiu huo, that's what. _Sir_."

"Zoe... explain." Mal was gripping the arms of Wash's old chair so hard his knuckles were white. He was afraid to stand, else his anger would get the best of him.

"That girl is torn to bits over something, and fragile enough as is. You keep pushing at her she's like to push back, harder."

"Well aware of that fact," Mal said, ghosting a hand over his sore abdomen.

"I know you told us the jist of it, Sir, but... what else happened out there?"

"Empty heads, empty lives." Both Mal and Zoe turned sharply at the sound of River entering the bridge. "Empty bodies just big containers for their _tabula rasa._"

Mal and his first mate exchanged a look, then Zoe said, "I'll be checkin' the mule and making the rounds if you need me." As she took her leave Mal realized her last words hadn't been specifically directed towards him.

River stood in the doorway, looking small now, back in her own oversized clothes. She clutched a wad of gauze and a bottle of antiseptic in her hands.

"You frettin' about my scrapes too?" He frowned recognizing the sting still in his words.

"From Kaylee."

"S'pose you heard all that?" Mal rose to step toward her, and as she moved past him to sit in the copilot's chair, she spoke.

"I only needed a few minutes." It was quiet, and he could see her trying to hide her face behind shorter hair.

He clenched his jaw. "I'm on edge, Albatross. Didn't mean nothin' against you, 'gainst Kaylee, before."

"No. You didn't."

"I ain't heard anything from… your brother. Can you…" Mal felt strange asking about her abilities so bluntly.

"Maybe when we're closer." She remained in the chair with her back to Mal, staring out into the black.

"I'll be back 'fore long. You can settle back in your bunk. I'll take the night cycle." He waited for a response and clenched his jaw when none came. River tossed the now wadded gauze and bottle of antiseptic into his empty chair, making no effort to move from her seat. With a sharp intake of breath Mal turned on his heel and left the bridge.

He had no real intent for where he was headed as long as it was away from the thickening air in the cockpit. All those reasons for why they shouldn't have done, came flooding back now, with the familiar feel of Serenity engulfing him. Just what the gorram hell had he expected to happen once they were back on board?

His feet took him to the infirmary, while his mind lingered, drawn between the girl in the cockpit and the empty shuttle bay lyin' open like a wound on the side of his ship.

"Hi, Cap'n."

He looked up from the floor to see Kaylee, absently fingering a few stray implements on the doctor's abandoned counter. The sight struck him like a blow to the head. Worry though she might, Kaylee was quiet about it.

"Any word from 'Nara?" Mal shook his head in response. "Simon?"

He took a step forward, not knowing what to say or where to start. But she turned her back on him, starling him back into silence.

"River couldn't pin ya down?"

He blinked and stared blankly, conjuring the meaning of Kaylee's question, until she turned around again, dampened gauze in hand.

"Said she'd try an' get ya cleaned up."

Mal let her set to cleaning the scrape above his left eye. He hadn't even remembered how he'd earned it.

"Weren't bleedin' when you got shipboard, don't mean it didn't bleed a bit before."

"Mei mei," Mal addressed her, reaching up to catch her by the wrist. It was a term he hadn't called her by since before Simon and River…

"Four, five days, shuttle'll be back on Serenity, we'll be getting' on about work." Kaylee hadn't said anything more about the three absent crewmembers, chattering on instead of the new parts she'd picked up that would promise to keep her girl flyin' smooth for the next little while. Mal had listened absently, promising to himself, and silently to Kaylee as well, that there would be a second shuttle and three more crew aboard Serenity in five days time.

Making his way back through the galley and onto the bridge near an hour later, Mal felt an emptiness settle into him. He shook off the thought that it had anything to do with passing River's bunk. The girl hid herself away the rest of the night cycle and well into the next day.

"Anything, Sir?" Zoe stood leaning into the cockpit supporting herself with her shoulder against the hatchway.

"Woulda told ya if there was," Mal mumbled. There had been no word from the companion for the remainder of the night and, as it were, the whole crew was on edge expecting to hear from Rick Allen at any time now. Trouble was… No wave.

For the past eighteen hours she had been reacquainting herself with Serenity's secrets. The small compartments and narrow passageways had been comforting and familiar. Now she sat nestled in the ventilation shaft above the cockpit, feeling the recycled air pass her by – always passing her by.

She watched them come and go - Kaylee more often than Zoe. Mal remained, stubbornly waiting in front of the cortex screen. After Zoe left, River lay back against the bottom of the duct, stretching her legs up to touch her toes to the metal above her. It was one place that the feeling of just being River was able to reach into her bones. No eyes watching her, caring, concerned, indifferent nor crass. When they saw you behave like River it was much easier to trip, stumble and fall. Make a fool of yourself, draw more attention. More thoughts. More noise. Bust your brain pan on the grating and drift off for good.

But when they weren't looking at you it was easier to just be who you were, and not the girl that they saw. She felt the emptiness of the ship echoing through the walls, the spaces and the ducts where she hid. She was restless, but there was no job to work out her frustrations on. There was only a wall – high and relentless.

River lowered her legs back to the bottom of the duct, stretching her toes out to the metal walls on either side and mimicking the motion with her fingertips above her.

"_Simon!" she called at the top of her voice. Even then there was a melody to it. "Si-igh! Please?" She could hear his footsteps hurriedly echoing across the oak floors of the hallway outside her room, and allowed herself the briefest smile. Then he hesitated – making her wait for him – and her mouth turned down into a pout. "I hear you, guay toh guay known."_

_Her bedroom door creaked open and Simon was backlit against the lights from the rest of the house. "No name-calling."_

"_I still don't feel well."_

"_Well, it's been only an hour since I gave you the fever reducer, River. You have to give it some time to work." Simon was home for the weekend from the Medacad, charged with watching his _mei mei_ while their parents attended a gala off world. He stepped inside her bedroom and placed his hand to her forehead before picking up the ancient tempscan for a more accurate reading. "It seems to have broken. You'll be feeling better soon, I'm sure."_

"_Not." She stuck her tongue out at him with all of the defiance an exhausted eight year old could muster._

"_I'm sorry. I didn't understand that. Fragments, River?"_

"_Not feeling better. Not now. Not soon. Did you wave Mother and Daddy?"_

"_Yes. They say," Simon hesitated as he sat next to River on her bed._

"_They're glad I'm in the capable hands of the next Dr. Tam." River slumped against her _dàgē's _shoulder. "May I sleep in bed with you tonight? Watch the cortex while you study?"_

"_Do you want me to carry you?" River shook her head as Simon gathered up her pillows and blanket, as well as the tempscan and they headed down the hall. After she had climbed up onto his bed, River bent forward and let the contents of her stomach loose on Simon's floor. "Do you feel better _now_, mei mei?"_

"_Yes."_

She sat up as straight as the ventilation duct would allow. The memory had been so sudden and so real it only left a pain in its absence. With tired eyes River watched the saltwater droplets soak into her skirt. Still sitting above the cockpit, she felt Mal's thoughts brush up against her, like a breeze blowing leaves over bare feet. With that she turned and headed elsewhere.

* * *

><p>Go hwong tong – enough of this nonsense<p>

Tian xia suo you de ren dou gai si – damn everyone in the 'verse

Bao xin jiu huo – bring wood to put out a fire

guay toh guay known – ghost head, ghost brain


	9. the truth about lying

Time was he'd have been able to sleep wherever the need took him. Soldier's rules - sleep where you can, while you can. But these past days...

Tired as he was, Mal hadn't slept more than half an hour at a time of late. He drifted into unconscious, though fitfully, at the kitchen table the morning they were to reach Perth's orbit. After a few moments, a dull clamor invaded his brain causing him to sit up straighter. "Wha-huh?" He stood up and moved down the hall to the cockpit. "'S thatta wave?" he slurred at River, seated quietly in the co-pilot's seat.

"Proximity alert." She lifted her hand from her lap and passed Mal her half finished cup of coffee.

"Thank you kindly." The mug was beginning to chill and, after a taste, he realized it had gone bitter. "How long you been flyin'?"

"Since you fell asleep."

"Not long, though?" He stepped to the seat opposite River and sat the cold mug on the console.

"Two hours, twenty-three minutes. You needed to rest."

Mal looked out the front window of the cockpit, Perth slowly drifting closer. It looked quiet, peaceful; then, worlds had a tendency of being deceptive when viewed from out in the black. They settled into the small moon's orbit and River disengaged the flight sequence, letting Serenity float in place.

"Well… Albatross, what you reckon?"

"Can't say. Chaos, voices – lots of voices. Silence. No peace. No space." Her voice wavered, rising in volume and urgency. He could see her resisting the urge to shake, the frown set hard across her face. Suddenly she turned to look at him. "I will. When I'm closer, I will. I'll feel him."

"Need you ta stay with the ship, lil' one."

"Zoe can."

"Need Zoe with me. You and Kaylee keep Serenity ready to fly."

"I'm going, Mal." He saw her resolve solidify, no trace of the uncertain shakiness of a few seconds before.

"It weren't up for debate."

* * *

><p>"I do not like this, Sir."<p>

Mal and Zoe had taken the remaining shuttle dirtside and rented a luh suh two-seater transport in town to take them to Rick Alan's compound outside the outer sector. They had stalled it on an embankment overlooking a collection of bunkers that, last time Mal had seen them, had been much more intact and a might more deserted. There were tents bein' set up and broke down, transports from Alliance media groups aplenty, and, shiniest of all, a tā mā de dūn of feds.

"Nor I. But… got people down there, Zo."

"You don't have to talk me into it, Captain. Just sayin', is all."

They made their way down the embankment and closer to the circus. It being winter on this planet, they'd had the advantage of winter clothing to hide their body armor. Zoe was wearing Wash's old, clunky sweater; she'd left her mare's leg on the shuttle but kept an auto revolver tucked into her waistband. Mal wore much the same get-up he had on Greenleaf. Neither had worn their brown dusters, and he could see now, it was for the best.

"And whadda we say when they ask why we're here?" Zoe asked as they came closer to the activity.

"Well… we're concerned citizens, Zoe."

"Concerned citizens."

"That's right," Mal frowned. "But not too concerned."

"'Course not, Sir."

They sidled up to the fed barrier that encompassed the entire front of the compound. The back had been isolated by boulders and debris, the apparent work of the rockslide Allan had mentioned before asking for aid. He couldn't tell a whole lot from the scene before him, though he tensed and felt Zoe do the same beside him as they watched people being paraded out one of the buildings, obviously in federal custody.

"Who are you with?" said a voice from behind them?

Mal turned around and saw a short, chubby man with a data tablet in one hand and a capture in the other. "We're just concerned citizens, s'all." He smiled confidently, then tuned it down as he felt Zoe nudge his foot with her boot. Not _too_ concerned, but more concerned than that.

"Fei hua," the reported said, offhandedly.

"Shi ma?" Mal bristled. It was far too early to risk blowing their cover. Better to find out how much this man new, or guessed, about them before coming off tetchy.

"Don't get tetchy," the man said as if reading his mind – it was like being back on the boat with River. "Just learn to lie better. What publication are you folks with? Investigative journalists pro'lly, trying to get the scoop on us locals. A word of advice when you're tryin' to pull that one on the feds – concerned citizens stay concerned in their homes until we, with the media, tell 'em it's all clear and safe to come on out again."

"Because, who dosen't trust the media?" Zoe said sarcastically.

"Damn straight. Which proves my point – you two aren't just curious. So, what are you?"

Mal's eye caught the glint of a more complicated capture rig from the reporter standing a few feet from them. "_The Militia Leader and several of his key supporters have yet to be identified in the chaos of the raid. It has been speculated that they may be among the latest casualties of the Alliance's movement to sweep up the remaining Independents and militias scattered throughout the Rim._" He was filming his outro as he panned the capture back around from the wreckage to frame his face against the crowd of reporters around him.

"Her little sis," Mal said gruffly. Zoe turned sharply to stare at him. "Gets mixed up with some kid, says he's gonna change the 'verse. Zo's afraid he was talkin' nonsense bout some militia or some such. We got the coordinates from her last wave, thought we'd come talk some sense into her. We get here and it's like this, you tell me I'm fei hua, and I ain't supposed to get tetchy?"

The reporter let them use the cortex from his personal transport to search for "Zoe's sister" in the Aliance prisoner log. "Lotta Jane and John Doe's. Nobody matchin' your sister's description?" He asked, peering over Zoe's shoulder.

"Not a one." With a stone expression, Zoe scrolled down the list, skimming the descriptions of all those that had been bound by law after the raid. Plenty of revolutionaries, old browncoats and neo-independents alike; a few pioneering wives and children, but not a sign of merc, companion or doctor. And no sign of Richard Allan.

"And no shuttle."

"What's that?" the chubby man asked, scratching his beard.

"Her shuttle ain't here. Good chance the shuttle's with the girl – shuttle ain't here, girl ain't here." Mal turned away from the cortex screen, Zoe standing and following him off the little man's transport.

"You're just leaving? No sound-clip from the "concerned" brother-in-law?"

He and Zoe glanced at each other, Mal frowning at the smirk passing over Zoe's features.

"Yeah. You try to be a hero, ya end up getting yourself killed."

* * *

><p>"There is <em><strong>no way<strong>_ I'm lettin' you go sniffin' about down there!"

"Wuo dwei nee boo ting boo jen."

Kaylee cringed as she heard the hatch slam shut down the passageway. She peaked her head around the engine room hatch, saw Mal walking away and into the cockpit. Moving as quietly as she could, she maneuvered her way through the kitchen towards River's bunk. A few steps from her target, she felt Zoe's strong grip on her shoulder. She turned around, eyes pleading with Zoe to side with her against the Cap'n. Least this once.

"Ain't right, Zoe."

"'S for River's own good, mei mei. Captain's tryin' to protect her. Can't say as I agree how he's goin' about it."

Mal could hear their voices drifting softly down the corridor. "What the guay happened between them, Zo?"

"_I'm going, Mal."_

"_It weren't up for debate." He said quietly, brooking no argument. _

"_Good, debate is only a waste of time." She was on her feet and passing him by, smooth as silk, heading for her bunk. _

"_Lìng rén nányǐ zhìxìn," Mal muttered under his breath. "Riv," He called as he turned to see her climbing down her ladder. "River."_

"_Ching jin," she called up._

_As he climbed down after her, he was drawing a blank as how to get the girl to stay shipboard without physically restraining her. Even coming to that, his chances were slim, he knew. He saw clothes being tossed into a duffle, River's back to the hatch. _

_It was the first he'd been in the bunk since she moved from the passenger dorms a year ago. As turbulent as her mind had been, he'd always seen it as a curiosity that her dorm had been kept neat and bright, almost homey. Not playfully cluttered as Kaylee's had been before bunking with Simon, nor the controlled chaos of the Doctor's dorm, all rumpled blankets and piles of medi-data flimsies off the cortex. _

_But her dorm seemed sparse in comparison to this bunk. The walls were hung with sketches - kokeshi dolls, geisha dancers, and several different renderings of a Firefly class transport. What stood out most of all, though, was the wall behind her bed, papered with layer upon layer of captures, posters, sketches and etchings of trees. _

"_You're staring." He looked back at the girl as she placed a smaller canvas bag inside the duffle. It clinked lightly. _

"_Whadda you think you're doin'?" he asked, snapping back to the issue at hand. As he posed the question her hurricane of motion came to a halt. _

"_Finding my brother." All the intensity of her storm rested in her eyes as she spoke, and he knew then there was no talking her out of this. Her hand reached out for the .38 sitting atop her night table._

"_Albatross…" Mal ventured cautiously forward into the room, like approaching a skittish colt with a lunge line. She paid him little attention as she lifted her foot to place it on the edge of the bed, pulling her skirt up past her knee. He could see her reaching for something on the pillow and the only way he could stop it was to put himself between her and the thigh holster. _

_His hand sank into her warm skin and he lost his train of thought for a jot. Luckily the same happened to River, and the two of them stood facing each other in a stalemate. _

"_Please let go."_

"_What if I don't want to?" he frowned at both her request and his reluctance to comply with it. _

"_We don't have time for this," she whispered looking down now at the hand against her bare skin._

_With his free hand Mal swept a loose bit of hair behind her ear and leaned close to whisper into it. _

_Her gasp of recognition came too late as her body fell limp into his arms. "Girl don't weigh more then a minute," he mumbled to himself as he placed an unconscious River onto her bed. He made a quick dash up the ladder and into the gun locker just outside the cockpit to retrieve a set of cuffs. "Sorry, boa bai. You're sittin' this one out."_

* * *

><p>"<em>Ching jin." She searched through her clothes bin for something warm, dark, deceptive. She could feel him descending the steps of her ladder but pushed the flow of his thoughts to the back of her mind. Clothes tossed into the bag atop the ammunition. What else? What if they were hurt? Simon would have his med kit and basic first aide equipment with him. Simon wasn't her only concern though. She pulled the canvas bag full of capsules, ampoules and vials out of her bureau and turned to toss it on top of the clothes. "You're staring."<em>

"_Whadda you think you're doin'?" he asked, finally returning to his original goal of impediment. _

"_Finding my brother." He felt just as responsible for the fates of the people gone planet side as she did. How could he not see that? She turned and reached for the weapon on her side table._

"_Albatross…" She refused to think of the careful way he said the words, the affection replaced by concern. She searched for a distraction from his mind – not so easy with so few people aboard Serenity. Settled on the lights strung above the trees. The soft-white glow that began to fade in and out of her vision as she tried to shield her mind from his screaming thoughts. _

_Have the gun, next the holster – she had her knee bent and skirt swept out of the way. Suddenly his hand was where the gun should rest. "Please let go." The words came out haltingly._

"_What if I don't want to?"_

"_We don't have time for this," she warned herself as much as Mal. _

_He swept a strand of hair behind her ear and she braced for more physical contact as he leaned closer. What happened next ripped through her like a bullet train to Osiris. _

"Eta kuram na smekh."

* * *

><p>Fei hua – crap talk<p>

Shi ma – is that so?

Wuo dwei nee boo ting boo jen – I neither see you nor hear you

Lìng rén nányǐ zhìxìn – unbelievable

Ching jin – come in

Eta kuram na smekh – that's for chickens to laugh at


	10. know by now

A/N Sorry such a short chapter, but I got this one up quick - two in two days (patting myself on the back here) - so it's like you got a really long chapter. Yeah, whatever sounds better. Hope you enjoy. (there's a bit of a twist)

Love

* * *

><p>Her head ached fiercely. There was a luminous glow beyond her eyelids and she heard a humming in her ears, growing louder as though a shuttle was landing only feet from where she stood. The noise faded out again and she could hear a man speaking softly in the background.<p>

"… think she's coming to, now."

"Simon?" She blinked into the lights as she opened her eyes.

"Lie back down. You collapsed. I'm just taking your pulse now." She looked up at him as he counted silently, watching the seconds tick by on his old-fashioned pocket watch. "You didn't hit your head. Still, you may have a concussion. Do you remember where you are?"

"My shuttle," Inara answered softly. She was mentally counting the days since leaving the compound on Perth.

"And the day?"

"It's Wednesday. Simon, I'm fine. Really."

"It's Thursday."

"Then I've missed an engagement," she said lightheartedly. "Simon, let me sit up." Inara swung her legs over the edge of the bed slowly, pushing up on her right elbow. The effort it took winded her; a wave of dizziness settled over her and seemed to take up residence.

"Carefully, please."

"Yes, Doctor," she answered sharply, glaring up at him. There was only so much time one could spend in a confined space with Simon – or maybe her practiced patience was finally beginning to give way to their circumstances. "Where is Jayne?"

"Hunting," Simon answered tensely.

"For what?"

"Three guesses. Mine would be liquor, women or food – not necessarily in that order." Inara rolled her eyes in exasperation. "A part. A three-way catalytic fusion regulator."

Inara's eyes brightened. "Is that it? Will that get us airborne again?"

"According to Alan."

They had spent the last three months grounded due to mechanical issues with the shuttle. It wasn't designed to be away from its parent ship for such long periods. Add to that its inability to travel long distances as a standard short-range shuttle and their ever dwindling lack of funds, and the last five months of their lives had been very interesting – bouncing from planetoid to moon to skyplex, all while trying to stay low profile. The last thing they needed, as crippled as they already were, was an Alliance patrol taking notice of them.

"Where is he?"

"Right here," Alan answered from behind her.

* * *

><p>"Well, where the guay <em>is<em> she?" Mal saw Kaylee flinch and felt sorry for it, but he was stretched thin these days, and shamed to say it wasn't the worst his mechanic had gotten from him of late.

"It's River, Cap'n."

"Meanin' you don't know?"

"Meanin' that, yeah," Kaylee bit back at him. She kept to her work, tightening a junction under the coil-lock release shaft. She was nearly dwarfed under the slim cylindrical mechanism, she'd lost so much weight. But the last few months had been hard on all of 'em.

Mal turned silently and walked out, not knowing what words to offer her for the thousandth time, that likely wouldn't do any good once he'd spoken them anyway. Instead he headed for the cockpit.

Zoe sat quietly in Wash's old seat, looking down at her lap. There she held a flimsy off the cortex that Mal was having trouble reading from his angle looking over her shoulder.

"You seen the little one?"

"Oh, yes," Zoe said quietly.

"Well?"

"Don't know where she got herself to, but she handed me this 'fore she went." She passed Mal the flimsy and watched the look of acceptance cross his features.

"Huh." He passed the article back to Zoe before heading wordlessly for River's bunk.

There was no answer to his steady knock and he let himself in. He'd learned long time back that River was the only crewmember to not lock their bunk when they weren't in it. Guess she had nothing to hide.

The lights were out, 'cept the string that hung crossways over her bed, highlighting the trees in the background. Her .38 was home on its nightstand and her combats peaked out from under a small pile of cast off clothing. Mal smiled to himself thinking that even at it's messiest she still had the cleanest bunk on the ship. There was no desk or spare chair in the room, so he took up a seat on her latrine.

Mal let loose a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and dropped his shoulders, resting his head in his hands. The rope, pulled taut these last five months, had finally snapped. He knew it was only a mater of time.

A few days after the raid of the Perth Compound, the Alliance had released a list of prisoners associated with the militia group that had been captured there. Next was the absence of the militia leader, Richard Alan, and the rumor that he had escaped on an unidentified shuttle only hours before Alliance forces penetrated the militia's defenses. This was followed by other to-be-expected Alliance propaganda. Still, it had given the crew some hope that their missing members had managed to stay with the shuttle and would wave as soon as they could.

But hours soon turned to days and one day turned to seven, and Mal couldn't afford to keep his ship and his crew drifting on the outskirts of the White Sun System waiting for word. He reached out to a few contacts, made a few waves. It was time to go back to work.

After the first job with Monty, River had taken her cut and launched the shuttle in the middle of the night cycle. Mal was beside himself – fury, anger, concern, you gorram name it. _"What did you do?"_ Kaylee had asked frantically when she learned River was gone. Mal sat up all that night and into the late morning, studying River's room, her sketches, anything that might tell him where she'd gone and why. She found him propped against the wall and her bed, sitting on the floor, asleep.

"_Please leave. I don't want to speak to you."_

"_Just where the ruttin' hell've you been?"_ Mal had jumped to his feet and taken hold of her by the shoulders. She shrugged him off near effortlessly and handed him a slim data tablet. _"Skyplex," _she'd told him. The tablet had already been used to search the Alliance Blotter on the cortex.

Life had moved forward, as much as could be expected, over the next few months. Kaylee took to sleepin' in her engine room hammock and River could be found with her data tablet practically stitched to her hand. Zoe'd been the most resilient of them all, mother hen to Kaylee and River alike. She took most of the mess rotation and tried to keep a light conversation when they weren't talking as to a job.

Between jobs, though… Bushes were beat till anything that could be considered news of the missing crew was flushed out. Leads led from moon to moon, all the way across the system once, but they never seemed to go anywhere. Still, the data tablet never left River's side.

Which was why it struck Mal as a bad sign that it was lying on her pillow top in her bunk when she was obviously not there.

For the past five months they had all held onto the hope that they would reunite with Simon, Inara and Jayne soon enough. Though the possibility remained, however unspoken, that that wouldn't – couldn't – happen. Mal thought about the flimsy Zoe had showed him and he sighed heavily. He needed to see River now, more than just to have her set course off planet – he needed to gauge her stability, her reaction to the news. He'd wait all night if he had to. It wouldn't be the first time.

* * *

><p>River climbed the steps down into her bunk, already knowing what to expect. She cringed mentally when she heard his unconscious thoughts. Good broadcaster, the Captain. He was sitting on her toilet, slumped against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.<p>

"Captain," she announced herself. He nearly fell from the stool.

"Hi…. Yeah. You're, uh, back."

"Yes."

"Where were ya at?"

"Suplies," she motioned to the bag of new toiletries on the floor near the wash sink.

"Oh. I… spect we all could use some." Mal stood looking at the bag near his feet. Like so many times before, he didn't know what to say. "Zo… showed me…" He looked up to see what emotions crossed her face.

Her mouth turned downwards at the tide she felt sweeping in at his words. For the past five months she had been walking a tight rope, and with the weight of something as simple as the article she'd crossed on the cortex this morning, she had finally toppled. She shut her eyes hard and wrapped her arms around herself. The girl would not do this. Would not break like this. Not in front of him. Not this second. But the tears were coming, screaming silently though the girl's head and dropping like bombs to the cold metal floor beneath her bare feet.

Mal saw the silent sob escape her lips and, without thinking he closed the space between them. She was breaking. She pushed against him but without any real force, and he realized that this was the first time he had held her since the morning they hit Perth's orbit five months ago. He lowered them both to the ground and held her tighter as he felt her gasps deepen and the tears begin to soak into his shirt.

"They're alive," she choked out. "They're alive, Mal. And we can find them. We're going to find them."

"I know. Fang xin, boa bai. Shhh, now. We will find 'em."

* * *

><p>Guay – hell<p>

Fang xin, boa bai – don't worry, sweetheart


	11. gaining

~enjoy~

"Lovely, lovely. Come over 'ere," the man motioned her to his table with something bordering on an obscene gesture. "What manner of business are you in here, beau'iful?"

"I _am_ a waitress," she explained slowly as she sat a pitcher of beer down in front of the little man. It was an upper class brothel, but it was still a brothel. Set in the fore of one of Persephone's blackout zones, it was marginally safe while being removed from the legalistic mainstream society. It was comfortable here.

"You lookin' ta get outta that line a work, sweet'art?"

"No," she said flatly and with a blank stare. "Can I get you anything else?"

* * *

><p>Mal found himself sat on the edge of River's bed, neck stiff from sleeping sitting upright. He remembered drifting off with the girl draped across him, still sniffling, but finally calming down. Now his lap was very empty by comparison. He looked to his left to see her curled up at the opposite corner of the bed. Small as she was, he marveled at how little space she had managed to occupy, leaving an empty expanse of bed and blanket between them. He took it as her silent signal, <em>'thanks for the comfort, but things haven't changed none'<em>.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, Mal shook off the nagging feeling of guilt over the way he'd handled her. Weren't the first time he'd humped a situation, certainly wouldn't be the last. He eased off the bed quietly as possible, and headed up the ladder and out of his pilot's bunk.

It was the early hours of the night cycle and Mal was wide-awake – some things would never change. A look down the corridor showed little Kaylee asleep in the engine room, the steady hum of serenity drowning out her soft snoring. Zoe's door was closed as it had been much of late. Sometimes the soldier needed time to herself – he could certainly understand that. He headed up to the bridge to take a look at what crime they might have lined up next. Grateful as he was for what intel River had found on the Doc and the others – and he _did_ intend to keep that promise he'd made her tonight – he still had a ship to keep fueled and mouths to feed. Couldn't orchestrate no search and rescue operations if you hadn't two credits to rub together.

Mal sank heavily into the pilot's seat. It was late by Beaumond's time, early by Persephone's, and anywhere in between for the other handful of contacts he had spread across the rest a the verse, so he sent a mass pre-rec-wave trusting he'd see some responses filter through over the next handful of hours.

Zo'd left the flimsy setting out on the console before taking her leave of the bridge, and he picked it up to catch some of the details he'd only glossed over before. Seemed the Alliance had more information on the three fugitives Rick Alan had hightailed it outta the compound with than they initially let on. Now Mal was looking at warrants on Jayne Cobb and Inara Serra for Conspiring Against The Allied Government, and Simon Tam (also wanted for kidnapping and in connection with other offenses against The Allied Government).

"Shiny." Mal threw the flimsy back onto the console, stood from his seat and headed for the galley. Might be he could scrounge some cold dumplings from the refrigeration unit. He padded quietly in his socked feet, tugging his shirt tails free as he went – it was late and all were asleep, might as well get comfortable his ownself. The room was dark and the light that illuminated the food shelves did little else for his surroundings. He stood staring at the stoneware pot Zoe'd fried the dumplings in, wondering if there was a hit of saké left in the back far cabinet when his hair stood up at the creepifying feeling he got when being watched. He turned around to see River sitting on top of the dining table, data pad in hand.

"I'll be takin' my food back to the cockpit in a few seconds. Didn't mean ta interrupt." Though in truth, it was strange to see her in the common areas of the ship this late at night. Without Kaylee or Zoe to draw her out, River'd been keeping to her bunk and that damned data pad.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" he asked, pulling a few dumplings out of the pot and dropping them into a bowl. "What of?" He kept his eyes on his food and off of the girl sitting cross-legged in the middle of the table.

"Probability."

Mal shook his head. "You'd best start talkin', lil' one. Something tells me I ain't like to understand till you're done."

"Probable distances," River began as she shifted forward onto her knees. She held the data pad out for Mal to see, though he wasn't looking at it. "Short range. Only a few places to be reached from Perth. And so on, and so on…" She tapped the screen again and again, the coordinate map growing larger each time. "Factoring in flight times and seasonal asteroid migrations, I've come up with a list of plausible destinations."

He held his hand up to silence her, his eyes still steady on his untouched food. "Slow down an' back up, darlin'. Short range shuttle'll only make it so far on a leg." River nodded. "And you've calculated – using god knows what kinda crazy algorithm – where they mighta landed." She smiled at his choice of vocabulary and nodded once again. "And _so on_."

"Precisely."

"Well," Mal finally looked up. "That's a mighty big haystack."

"It's somewhere to begin."

"That it is. And I suppose there's no better place to start than the beginning." He sighed heavily, "But… Ain't no conceivable way we can hit all those worlds 'fore they maybe take off from the one they're on, head for another."

"I only have to narrow down the possibilities, cast a smaller net. It's entirely achievable. All I need to do is cross-reference the possible sites with any news or gossip related to that site that might tie to Alan or Jayne. Maybe even Inara," she said as an afterthought. She grew quiet then and watched as Mal finally picked up a dumpling with his fingers and began eating. "Why are you indulging me?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"You don't think it will help. If you don't think it will help, why are you entertaining the idea? Or even listening to this feng le babble?"

"First time we had a proper conversation in months," he smirked. "I reckon I'll take what I can get. Besides that… made you a promise earlier. Don't see as I can make good on that if I'm not willing to start somewhere. Your place is just as good as any."

"We've talked." River began scooting off the edge of the table now, probably ready to bolt for her bunk again.

"Yeah, painfully." Mal remembered a couple of the sore jaws he'd nursed over the last few months – gentle, compared to what he knew River was capable of. "We ain't spoke in a long time, Albatross, and I can't blame you for that." He turned around, suddenly not hungry anymore, and put the rest of his food back in the pot. It had been silent so long, he was certain River had left him for her bunk, but when he turned back around, she stood less than a foot away from him.

"Why did you do that to me?"

"You know why," he answered her, slowly studying her face in the dimly lit room. "Why didn't you come after me and Zo? Could a taken Serenity, come after us. You got out of your handcuffs plenty easy. Why'd you stay put?"

"Quit screaming at her," she answered cryptically, and swiftly turned and ran out of the galley.

"Wait a minute, now," he called after her. "That ain't fair; I can't _just know_ what you're thinking!"

As he was about to follow her down to the lounge when the wave alert on the bridge began it's soft signaling. "Nah mei guan shee," he muttered as he headed for the cortex screen in the cockpit.

"Ni hao," Mal said as he answered the wave. He was greeted by a screen of static and the voice of a young woman.

"Ni hao. I thought I would let you know the wave you sent earlier only come through with audio."

_That so?_ Mal wanted to snap as he began fiddling with a series of knobs beneath the cortex screen. Instead he said, "I'm beginning to see why. Thanks for lettin' me know. And who might you be?" He didn't recall sending the wave to any young woman, though her voice sounded slightly familiar.

"A friend of a friend, I expect. That is, if you'd call Badger a friend." Mal could hear the smile in her voice and it made him smile back.

"Badger ain't exactly a friend of mine, but we tend to run in the same social circles." Maybe there'd be a chance to pull in another quick, honest smuggling job, line their pockets a bit before they went back on the search again.

Kaylee'd said the new Cortex screen was an upgrade when the old one had shorted a few months ago - _"Get a real pretty, clear picture" - _ but Mal couldn't see how it was of much use if you couldn't see who you were supposed to be waving.

"You interested in a bit of proper work?"

"I didn't know better, I'd say you might'a read my mind. Why ain't it Badger waving?"

"Badger thinks folk tend to respond better to a pretty face."

"Can't yet say as I can vouch for that. I still ain't seen…" Mal trailed off as the screen shifted into a picture of a young girl. Younger than River, hair like brown sugar and eyes as grey as the hull of Serenity. He twisted the knob quickly before continuing, hoping she hadn't caught a glimpse of _his_ face. "Your pretty face." He finished.

"Might be we could set up a meet anyway? Got a real shiny job lined up but the supplier won't go through Badger, he says, not unless you're signed on too."

"That a fact? Let me guess. Sir Warwick Harrow."

* * *

><p>River stood near the cockpit hatch, waiting silently till Mal finished the wave. He sat quietly for several seconds after terminating the feed.<p>

"It was her." He turned in his seat at the sound of her voice. "Sounded like her, and didn't, but it was."

"How long you been standin' there?"

"Hours, days, minutes," she got a distant, creepifying look in her eyes. "She is always here, always everywhere. Can't not be."

"I was thinking over your probabilities, Albatross," Mal said, sidestepping the obvious.

"I know. What you're thinking."

"Well," he scrubbed his face with his hands in a weary way. "Does my pilot care to weigh in?"

"Yours is a better plan," she said quietly as she turned and walked away.

* * *

><p>Ni hao – hello<p> 


	12. begin to hope

A/N: Don't say it... It's been *cough cough* too long.

* * *

><p>"Never saw our boat, never knew my name, never saw my face durrin' the wave. Simple as that." Mal sat at the table discussing the new developments with Kaylee and Zoe over coffee that morning.<p>

"Too simple, ya ask me." Mal only glared across the table at Zoe – not quite angry, but that look that said, _why ya always gotta go and be logical?_

"Riv onboard?" Kaylee asked.

"Seems to be. Figure she sees the _logic_ in the plan." He caught a small smile from Zoe out of the corner of his eye, then it was gone.

"And what's that, Sir?"

"A sister might know where to find her brother, how he operates and such, better'n us. Also, Harrow was the one sent Richard Allan our way in the first place. Conjure he might have some light to shed on things." Zoe nodded thoughtfully and Mal continued. "And, things go to plan, we have a whole boatload of shiny cargo – and payment – from Harrow."

* * *

><p>The lights were low and the fabric around the interior muffled the sounds of the men talking outside. She sat stock still, tea in hand. Likely it was burning her fingers, though she only felt a mild warmth. She was getting so tired.<p>

The sound of the shuttle entrance opening with a soft clang brought her back to the here. She smiled softly at the man standing in the hatchway, and sat down her teacup gently. "Who won?"

"Simon."

The men had been playing at cards, the stakes – who takes the tent for the night against who got to sleep beneath the stars. Inara had offered her couch plenty of times. Jayne and Simon had politely declined for good and all a few months ago, after it became apparent who'd be spending the nights sharing the Companion's bed.

"Jayne says he'll take his chances finding a woman in town," Allan continued. "'Rather sleep in a bed than a ruttin' tent anyhow.' Such a pleasant fellow." He moved forward to the couch and reached for Inara's hands to help her stand. "Aiya! Boa bai. Have you been pressing your hands against the fuel core when I'm not looking?"

"In the tea houses on the central planets the saying is _too hot to hold is too hot to drink._ That's why the teacups traditionally have no handles. I suppose I forgot."

"Sit down here." Allan ushered her over to her bed. "I've found a present for you." He pulled out a vial of powder and a syringe full of liquid. Sticking the needle into the vial, he began the process of reconstituting the drug.

"How did you find it?" Inara asked, the tightness easing from her voice a bit at the prospect of the now milky liquid in the vial.

"It's what I do," he said, paying more attention to the vial in question. She lowered her left arm to him, palm up, ready for the injection before he even had the liquid drawn back into the syringe. Allan prepared to administer the drug as she had shown him a time or few before, just after supplies began dwindling. He stopped, the needle hovering above her arm. "Why isn't Simon doing this? Does he even know? Maybe if you tell him he could – "

"I've seen the doctor, and he's seen me," she cut him off. "Now, please."

* * *

><p>Simon stood at the edge of the clearing that had housed the shuttle these past few months. He stared up at the night sky, the two sister moons of Shiva reflecting the light of the stars back at Ariopolis. Their own light drown out their existence to his naked eye, leaving only ghost images at the edge of his vision. River could explain it one hundred times more eloquently, and Kaylee… she'd wistfully look at the night sky, any number of dreamy sentiments falling from her lips. <em>Ain't it just so pretty? <em>His mind called up the sound of her voice and it brought an ache to the pit of his stomach.

He winced and turned back to the darkness of the clearing as he heard the shuttle door clang open and shut again. The scuff of boots on the dirt told him of Allan's approach.

"Is she sleeping?" Simon asked as the sound of footsteps stopped a few yards from him.

"Pretty much passed out. She's, ah… been having me give her…"

"Metaceim injections," Simon offered. "It's a cocktail of Metaclopromide Cefazolin Imipenem and a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory. It's good she's sleeping. Her body is getting some relief. She's been very taxed lately."

"And just what the hell does she need it for, Doctor?" Simon couldn't tell if Allan was more aggravated that he still didn't know what was going on or that he had to get his information from Simon.

"Very simply…," he sighed. He was tired, and homesick – actually homesick – for Serenity. And for Kaylee and River. "She needs it to live."

* * *

><p>Mal stepped lightly into the cockpit. He hadn't seen River since the night before but he was fair certain he'd find her there. Both chairs were empty, however, only the plastic dinosaur figurines keeping watch over the controls. He shifted his attention from the girl to the Black. He could scarce remember the last he'd had a chance to stare out into the vastness of her. <em>I like an easy, languorous journey<em>, he'd said to Wash once. That was the truth of it, though it never did turn out that way.

"I wonder what that would be like," River mimicked Kaylee's response from her seat on the stairs at the fore of the cockpit.

"You re-work my course again, Albatross?"

"Shaved eighty-seven minutes off of our time."

"Little proud to out-pilot me?" Mal asked as he moved down to the steps to take a seat near River.

"I take no pride in it, Captain. I simply like to make the journey in the most logical way possible."

They were both silent for a time as Mal watched River staring out into the Black. He sighed heavily, not knowing really why he felt the need to say it, but out of his mouth it came. "People are afraid of the darkness 'cause it holds pieces of us we're busy denyin'." River turned her head aside, not looking at him straight on but out of her periphery. He couldn't tell what she was thinking then, and gorramit, when could he? "My ma used to tell me that. On Shadow. I think of that sometimes, when I'm lookin' out there… most nights."

"I've loved the stars too much to be afraid of the night."

Mal thought he saw a slip of a smile cross her face. "My kind a woman," he replied without thinking. As he realized what he had said he hoped River would change the subject.

"Never talk about your mother. Or Shadow."

And change the subject she did.

"Yeah… well. Don't much wanna talk about what's past. Too much to think on, can't be changed." River nodded her head slowly, scooting up a step to sit between where Mal's feet rested. "You don't much talk of Simon," he offered, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Excepting finding him, you ain't mentioned the doc in a good long while."

"Don't much wanna talk about Simon right now," she whispered, mimicking him. She leaned up then, running her hand through his hair.

"What _do_ you wanna talk about?" Mal gulped.

"Whiskey."

The bottle sat on the galley tabletop between a tin coffee mug and a delicate porcelain teacup. Mal had stopped counting shots a quarter of an hour ago, and he'd certainly lost track of whether River was matching him.

"Not the first time I walked in on Kaylee in th'engine room, but the look on your brother's face… I mean, he deserves his privacy much as any man, but gorram, it was an entertainin' sight to see." He watched her smile warm as she no doubt plucked the memory from his head – found he didn't mind so much this time. Must be the whiskey.

"Captain's walked in on all the crew during. Even the Companion, though she doesn't know it."

Mal felt his cheeks redden. He reached for the bottle to pour another shot into the tin mug. "Time never was I could walk 'round my own ship without stumbling on something private." He cleared his throat. "Don't recall ever catching you in a compromising position, though, Albatross."

"Respect my privacy almost as much as your own. Doesn't make what you say true, however."

Mal's eyes darted from the drink in his hands to the girl, sitting up straighter now in her chair, a cocky grin creeping at the corners of her mouth. "Shi ma?" he asked, turning his mouth down, contrary to the look on her face.

River leaned closer to him, reaching for his drink. "There was the sake," she reminded him as she brought the cup to her lips.

"Well," his voice sounded rough and quiet. "Yeah. There was that."

"And the time you first met her." Mal looked confused now. "In the cargo bay. Cold and clothed in fog. You were mad at Simon. Thought he – "

"Qingwa cao de liumang. But you were… You remember that?"

"Remember this." River stood from her seat and swept her bare feet the few paces that separated them across the metal floor of the galley.

Mal thought then, he must've had more to drink then he should rightly have allowed in mixed company, bein' that his body was slow to respond when his mind said to stand up and walk away. Before he could sort that out, though, River was settled on his lap with one leg to either side of him, leaning closer by the second. "Kě yào xiǎoxīn," he managed to get out before she covered his mouth with her own.

The warm buzz of the whiskey, mixed with the warm body of the woman in his lap, momentarily shut off all care or worry that had plagued his mind the second before. It had been almost half a year since he'd held her like this and he had forgotten how natural it felt.

He suddenly found his hands resting on her hips, his fingers exploring the slight roughness of the linen pants sitting just below her waist compared with the warm skin above them; found his hands moving up to her waist, resting just below the hem of her loose tee-shirt; found himself stopping there. Taking a firm hold then, he lifted her to her feet and made it to his own in a quick, albeit awkward motion. "I said, be careful, now."

As he looked down on her face turned up toward his, her eyes opened to look at him beneath darkened lids, heavy from little sleep these past weeks and months. And in a split of the next second she'd turned on her heel and headed away from him again. Mal shut his eyes tight against the weariness and frustration that girl couldn't help but conjure in him.

"Riv," he called after her. When the only answer was the scrape of metal on metal that said she'd climbed down to her bunk, he opened his eyes in defeat. He was left alone next to the table, the two cups and the bottle they'd shared. _No sense wastin' good whiskey_, he thought as he picked up the bottle and trudged in the direction of his own bunk.

Twelve steps counted down the ladder and a steady gaze on the floor beneath him led Mal into the small space without incident. But – now it coulda been the drink, and likely had something to do with it – but that creepifying feeling, made the hairs stand on the back of his neck, it was there now. He needn't scan the room to know why, neither.

"You're being careful enough for the both of us," she said softly, sitting on the edge of his bed, all proper and polite, like she had every right to be there.

* * *

><p>Shi ma - How's that<br>Qingwa cao de liumang - Frog humping son of a bitch  
>Kě yào xiǎoxīn - (We) had better be careful<p> 


	13. broken

A/N Okay. don't shoot me. I've been a busy busy girl (all good things going on) and it's put the story on the back burner for a few months, but I'm back now and happy, happy, happy to be. Enjoy and please R&R

* * *

><p>In the dimness of the bunk, the girl stood out – light pants, white shirt – looked like she was floating in the darkness of his room. Mal tried to keep his head from spinning as she stood and moved forward, toward him. He sidestepped her and aimed for the desk chair to his left. Yep, he'd outpaced hi'self with the whisky.<p>

River placed herself firmly in front of him, a hand on either arm, guiding her captain to look back at her. He turned his head and tried to focus. Couldn't help but conjure up the memory of the last woman to stand like this. In front of him. In his bunk.

But this one was different in more than a few ways. Not so fragile. Delicate, but not vulnerable; but, yeah, she was vulnerable too. Younger, yeah, but smarter also. Sheltered, maybe. But not so much that, either.

"Paradox," River supplied in response to his unvoiced thoughts.

But, gorram, he hated when she did that. Couldn't bring himself to be angry about it just now though. Not with her hands moving up and down along his arms in a slow, soothing motion; and her body moving up closer to his. Where'd she learned that?

And that's where they were similar, her and Safron. She was trying to trick him.

"Not trying to trick you," she whispered as she guided his hand around to rest on her hip. She held it there as Mal let out a breath he felt he'd been holding in for months.

"Well darlin', you seem to be doing a damn fine job of it." He let out another tense breath and River took a step closer. Weren't much room left between them at this point.

"Not a trick if it's something you already wanted."

"Well, there you go bein' all logical."

With his free hand, Mal reached around her back – easy with her tiny waist up so close to him now – and placed his hand on top of hers, still holding his other in place on her hip.

"Let it go, Albatross."

"No"

He looked down and into her eyes. They were clear, un-muddled by the chaos that still had a way of creepin' in, by the un-known, knife's edge fear of never finding… All that was gone and she was focused and she was sure.

"Listen to me." It was a command, but delivered in the stern but soft captain-y voice usually reserved for a sniffling Kaylee. "What happened before, darlin'… shouldn't'a happened at all. Now that's my burden to bear. Can't have you goin' and making it harder for the both of us." He immediately regretted his choice of words as River shifted up closer – how could she keep getting' closer?

"I respectfully disagree," she said, all seriousness. "She's living again. She knows what she wants – not a girl anymore. Maybe still not quite right. Maybe a paradox. But Captain's the only one who understands she's a paradox. Understands you can't understand everything."

Mal tried looking down and away but there was no free space between them. He settled on staring at the bulkhead behind the woman in his arms. That she was. Not a child anymore. And true and wholly part of his crew.

Crew. That was whole 'nother bundle of issues to deal with it's own self.

He looked back down at River, then, noting she hadn't taken her eyes off his face the whole time. "You want this, girl?" She nodded almost shyly, taking him aback. She'd been so fiercely set on this the whole evening. It conjured up another thought in Mal's mind. "You either want all of it, or you'll have none of it. Dong-ma?"

"Yes," she said, finally releasing his hand.

One thing Mal had always known about River, was her inability to mince words. Gorram it, if she felt no need for regrets, well his mind just couldn't seem to work out why he should be regrettin' this either. He let one hand find its way to rest on her throat, while his other hand explored her back, just beneath her soft, white teeshirt.

While Mal's hands were busy, River put hers to work on his buttons. His shirt was undone and caught up around his elbows before he had a chance to register the fact that there was nothing else between the skin of her back and the soft fabric. He cleared his throat as he removed his hands from her, giving her leave to do away with his shirt altogether.

"Reckon you had this all planned out," he accused, brushing the back of his hand up against one of her nipples, now standing up beneath the thin fabric.

"I had an idea as to how things might play out." River's hands moved deftly down to work on unfastening his pants.

"I suppose that means there's no use arguin'." Mal took his cue from her and set to the buttons running up her right hip, holding the loose fabric to her waist. "Guess you know how... what you're getting yourself into." He stopped there, forcing her to look up at him. He needed something from her. Something that said she wouldn't change her mind in the morning - or sooner. He was too skittish to trust his own mind... and the whiskey.

River glanced up with a smile on her face. She nodded to him. "The mechanics of it are known and understood. The feelings are anticipated." Leaving his pants hanging loose at his hips, she slid hers down to the floor. "But I like to hear you say it."

"Wǒ gāngcái wàngjìle wǒ zìjǐ," Mal muttered under his breath.

River giggled.

…

Kaylee found the galley lights on and a couple a chairs pushed out from the supper table. There was also two empty cups smelled like whisky. _Cap'n and Zoe_, she thought dismissively, carrying the dishes to the sink. She turned the tap on to wash 'em – Cap'n's first, all rough edges, nicks and rust embedded into the tin-metal. It made a clinkin' noise as she set it down to drip dry. Then the delicate porcelain cup what looked like it oughta belong more to 'Nara than ta Zoe. Maybe it _was_ Inara's. The white stone – something 'Nara'd called china, once – was speckled all over with berries in different shades of reds and purples, outlined with the thinnest line of gold, finished with leaves of silver. It was real rich, somethin' you would find on a core planet, not on a smuggling ship or in some backworld general store.

_"You think this would make a nice gift?"_

"A

gift_? For whom?"_

"I just kinda like it. It's rich, you know?"

"Ooh_. For Simon."_

"I didn't say that."

"Kaylee?"

The sound of her name startled her and the cup slipped from her hand. The water was running hot now – now that she'd left off her attention to the job in front of her. She reached her hand down to pick up the delicate thing and nearly scalded her self.

Zoe reached over and turned off the tap. "Hey, mei-mei. Where were you just now?"

"Zo! I think I broke it," she intoned sadly in response.

"Just a chip, sweetie." Zoe guided Kaylee back to the table and sat her down. "Thinkin' on the doctor again?"

"I just miss him like gui. But it ain't fair for me to be complainin' bout none a this to you. I just… I couldn't sleep and meant to tidy up a bit is all, and then I saw you're an the Cap'n's cups and I started thinkin' of Simon and how he… And I guess you and Cap were talkin' bout 'Nara and Wash and… O Zoe! I ain't got no right…" Kaylee's lip began quivering and she tried like hell to hold back the tears.

"Whoa. Slow down, Kaylee." Zoe reached out her hand to comfort the younger woman. "You got every bit as much a right to miss Simon as I got to…" She paused before continuing. "Ain't nothing wrong with the missing of a person when the person's not here."

"Yeah, but Wash ain't coming ba…" Kaylee clapped her hand over her mouth and the tears started flowing in earnest this time.

"No," Zoe said calmly. "He isn't coming back. And I've had plenty of time to come to terms with that. Not knowing, though… As much as loosing him… it tore me a up a good lot – you all know that better'n anybody in the 'verse - but not knowing if he was comin' back…" Kaylee nodded through her tears, unable to voice her agreement for fear of making it real. Simon may never be coming back. At least she could share that with someone tonight.

"Sorry 'bout your teacup."

"Ain't mine. And what made you think I was drinkin' whisky with the Captain tonight?"

"We'll, two cups… It weren't me. Thought it must of been…"

"River," Zoe supplied.

Kaylee remembered now. The tea cups (there had been four of them) were a gift to River on her last birthday. From Inara.

"Don't seem to me the Captain's really missin' Inara, so much as kickin' himself for not finding them yet." Zoe and Kaylee shared a knowing look. Finally Kaylee stood to walk back toward her hammock in the Engine Room, while Zoe stared a hard line down the corridor of crew bunks.

…

Mal sat back against the bulkhead, River covering his lap. He pulled back from their kiss as he felt her trying to position herself - trying to hurry the start of it all. Her eyes were still closed after their lips had parted and he brushed his knuckles over her cheek causing her to look at him.

With a hand on either hip he helped her find her place, and - but Yesu she was wet - she began lowering herself onto him. A sound of surprise escaped her and then that far off look he'd been coming to know to well.

Mal let his hands wonder up her back to cup her shoulders, and leaned forward to speak into her ear. "Are you here with me? Or you someplace else?" He felt her head nod next to his and a small 'mmm hmm' followed.

When he felt she would go no further he kissed her jaw softly and said, "Deep breath. It's okay to cry out, now, darlin'." She nodded once more and he wrapped his arms around her tightly and pulled her into him.

...

Must have drifted off. Nothing like fallin ta sleep after to make you feel like an old man... As his hands stretched out beside him, Mal realized what he was missing. Her. He glanced around his bunk and saw the empty bottle of whiskey and wondered - he couldn't recollect - which of them as finished it off.

…

Kaylee was already at the stove when River came out of her bunk and into the galley. She stretched as she took the steps down from the crew quarters, and snaked her way up behind the mechanic to grace her with a hug.

"What's that for?" Kaylee asked, a shade of her usually sun-bright smile finally lighting her features.

"For finding you in the galley instead of the Captain."

"Don't mean the meals gonna be no different. All we got's powdered egg and protein." Kaylee returned to whisking the water back into the egg powder. She crinkled her nose at the glop in the bowl. "Hope ya like scrambled."

Kaylee took note of River's less than fastidious appearance this morning. She was wearin same clothes she'd eaten dinner in night before. It made Kaylee cringe a little to think on what she'd used ta say to Simon._ You shouldn't aughta be so clean. It's a dead giveaway you don't belong, you always gotta be tidy__._

When she opened her eyes it was to see the younger girl sitting a stool at the dinner table, inspecting the chipped china cup. "I'm real sorry, River, I... I don't..."

"A thing holds great beauty in its perfection. You admire it, gaze upon it, and you wonder. But it's fragile and so you put it away. Alone, silent and untouched, on a shelf or locked in a box. Until someone takes it out again. You look at a thing again with its imperfections, it's damages and you see a loss. I see strength. How something could sustain damages like it has and still remain whole. To hold itself together shows great strength." River lifted her gaze across the table to settle on Kaylee. Her far off haunted eyes became almost light with the smile that spread across her features. "You've added great character to my tea cup, Kaylee. I'll drink from only this one from now on."

Kaylee dumped the egg-glop into the wok as she watched River stand and fill the tea cup with steaming coffee. Somethin was different this morning she could tell.

"You ain't gonna eat with us, Riv?" Kaylee asked as she watched River head off to the cockpit.

"I'm all of a sudden not hungry."

The mechanic gave the eggs that weren't quite eggs another stir in the wok as she mulled over the girls meaning once again. Weren't exactly like she'd been talkin about a tea cup. She heard footsteps coming down from the crew quarters and looked up to see the Cap'n. Come ta think he looked mighty similar to the way he'd dressed last night.

"You seen my pilot this morning?"

Kaylee simply stared blankly with a half smile trying to spread across her face.

"Bridge?" he asked pointedly. She managed a nod this time. "Kaylee, you're lettin the eggs burn."

* * *

><p>Wǒ gāngcái wàngjìle wǒ zìjǐ - I might have just forgotten my own self<p>

gui - hell

Yesu - Jesus


	14. little talks

So sorry, so long, no excuses. Been sitting on this one for a bit... trying to get ahead in my writing so I'll have another chapter to post soon. We'll see how that goes. That being said, I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed, favorited and followed this story despite the lack of regular updates. It means very much to me. Without further ado... a little action and a little angst!

-Yve

* * *

><p>"Zoe, Zoe… Zoe."<p>

Badger tended to drone on and on in his greetings, but usually the leers were briefer and more contained. 'Course, usually the Captain was standing to her left where now stood nothing but the hull of the mule that had brought her to the back alleyway behind Badger's base of operations for this month.

"And may I just say… my deepest condolen – "

"Ain't here for that, Badger."

"Well, then, Lovely. Let me just get this straight then. What exactly is it you're here for? Because it ain't business. Is it? Reynolds is the man I conduct my business wiv'. So. No Reynolds… no business. Simple as pie."

"Captain had other _business_, more pressing to attend to. I'm here to get the details, the meet with Harrow, and we'll be in touch here on out."

"There is no _meet_ with Harrow. Not after the first time. You pick up a cargo, you deliver it to a destination. End of story."

"You gonna hand over the info or keep blowin' hot air, little man?" Zoe was in a foul mood as it was, and being saddled with Badger had put her in even less favorable humor.

The fence stuck his hand deep into his inner jacket pocket and produced a data stick. "And if the feds get involved again –"

"Then what?" Zoe growled as she grabbed the hand that held the data stick and pulled the little man close enough to smell the stench of grain alcohol and bad aftershave.

"Then believe you me, boa bai, _someone_ will take the fall for this one. This ain't no back world Jan Ying like last time. Someone will go down for this one and it ain't gonna be me and it sure as diyu ain't gonna be Sir Warwick Harrow. Just so's you understand that, Lovely." Zoe let him go with a little extra force behind her grip. She turned to go as he was stumbling to catch his balance. "That's not a threat, Zoe. It's a warning. No feds!"

She raised her hand as she climbed into the mule, signaling either a goodbye or go to hell, whichever he chose to take it as. She had done her part, and no sign of the girl Mal and River had described. She just hoped she'd given them enough time.

…

"Never been to the place from the front." Mal muttered into his com piece as he trailed the girls through the streets of Persephone.

"I still don't like it. Leavin' our girl out there all alone. Ain't right. Just ain't right."

"Kaylee, enough." Mal was trying to communicate without drawing attention to himself, though it was hard when the person you were talking to was makin' you wanna strangle 'em; oh, and they just so happened to be twenty or so feet ahead of you.

"Ain't right."

River reached her hand out and squeezed Kaylee's fingers. "She will be alright."

"Anyhow," Mal continued, trying to seem like he wasn't talking to himself. "That's it, just ahead. I hadn't heard the code from Zoe, so… girl's not with Badger out back. You two go on in and –"

"We know the plan, Mal," River interjected, squeezing Kaylee's hand once more before they entered the storefront.

"Fine. Good. Ya know the plan. _Now I feel better_."

…

The chimes rang as they seldom had in the past month that she had been working the business. She was to turn customers away while sniffing out potential clientele or business contacts and shifting them into Badger's waiting hands in his back office. Only today he was meeting with the smugglers that owned that firefly – the only ones Harrow was willing to deal with if Badger was brokering the deal. She sat in his desk chair sifting through flimsies and actual old-fashioned printed pages out of boredom.

"Hello?" a girl called out from the front room.

_Why take this job? Because you didn't like the looks from the strangers day in and out. Better the looks from that one little stingy bastard. At lease I know what to expect from him every day. _

She stood up and headed for the front room of the shop. There was a cheerful looking young woman with grease stains on her chin and sweater standing at the counter. Another young woman stood facing the street, her face obscured by the angle she stood at and her somewhat unruly hair. But there was something familiar about the way she stood, like she was ready to run at a moment's notice.

"Oh, hello," said the first woman. "Aren't you a real beauty?"

"I don't know 'bout that."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Wasn't talkin' 'bout you. No offense."

"None taken." _Just tell me what you want so I can tell you we don't have it and send you on your way. _

"I was talkin' about that. She's a real rarity, itn't she?" The woman pointed overhead to a first gen laser pistol replica.

"She'll cost you a pretty penny. Won't help you out much in a firefight though. She's not the real thing."

"Oh I hear the real ones don't fire for much neither," the cheerful woman said. "Ya think I could maybe hold her. She ain't on my list but I reckon I'd be getting enough goody at your shop you might throw that in as a perk." She smiled as she pushed a list of odd electronic supplies and other rickrack across the counter. "Maybe I could trade ya a story bout a real honest to goodness Lassiter?"

"I might could let you handle her while I gather up your goods. You know of any collector friends, you could maybe send 'em our way." _Might as well do a little trade, keep up appearances_, she thought.

She found the ladder and rolled it into place above the doorway to Badger's office as the cheerful woman nattered on and on about how she'd never seen a piece of machinery so old and so pretty as the Lassiter. She'd made it three rungs up the ladder when she felt the muzzle of the gun on the base of her spine.

"I always did fancy bullets over lasers my ownself."

She turned around slowly so as not to spook the gunman – a bullet in her spine would be a mess to deal with to say the least – and came face to face with the man from the jìnǚ house on Dyton. And the other young woman – the one holding the now silent chimes in her mischievous little hands – she had been his sparrow.

"Down with you." The man motioned with his free hand for her to descend the ladder. "Ladies, let's be takin our leave of this place."

"Give me just one more minute, Cap'n. Look at all the goodies!"

"Kaylee!"

…

Down the street a ways, then off down an ally to the left and they met up with Zo and the mule. It was easier to keep a gun on her in the mule, and Mal felt the unease he'd been harboring lessen as they got closer to the docks. River slipped of the mule and ran ahead a ways so's to open the cargo bay so the others wouldn't have to wait – sooner the girl was cuffed and confined in one of the passenger dorms, the better.

"Kaylee, move that clutter off the table." Kaylee was sitting at the dinner table sorting through a pile of techno-clutter as Mal headed through on his way to the bridge.

"Plan on talkin' to our guest here in a bit." Mal caught the face Kaylee made at him outta the corner of his periphery. He'd be right to imagine the look was for his choice of words concerning her gadgetry rather than his mention of their guest.

"How long you gonna keep her locked up in the dorms?" she asked, choosing not to argue over her task at hand – though not clearing any of the mess neither, Mal noticed.

"'Till we're well and good in the black."

…

River felt the footsteps on the metal grating behind her. She was practicing not hearing. It was easier with him than the others. It was peaceful.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to kiss the crown of her head. She smiled and leaned her head back to show him the pleasure on her face as he ran his warm hands up and down her arms. She was chilled.

"Course set?"

"Shi," she said softly.

"Been tryin' like gui to find you not busy. Seems like you've had more to do since last night than –"

"It's not that," she interrupted him.

"Well, I'd mightily appreciate you lettin' me in on what it is, Darlin'. Been feelin' like I'm bein' punished for some kind of mistake," his voice took on an almost stern quality, but she knew it was more one of concern. "But I know that can't be possible since someone went terrible far to make sure I understood weren't no mistake bein' made."

"No punishments. No mistakes."

Mal turned her chair around to face him, then knelt in front of her. "Then talk to me." River looked back over her shoulder at the black. He took her face into his hand and turned her back to look hat him. "Me. Dong-ma?"

"Time. And space. To absorb… And to remember," she added softly, a blush painting her cheeks. "And to learn, what it is to feel like this. Alone. I didn't need you guiding my thoughts, my emotions. You're a strong…"

"Broadcaster?" he finished for her.

"Strong person. Easy to influence others, easy to lead. You inspire. I need to know how _I _feel. Before I can learn how _we_ feel."

"And…" Mal gulped down the nervousness, "How _do_ ya feel."

"I… there's more to it," she was the one sounded nervous now. "Please stand up, Captain."

Mal threw a questioning glance at his pilot before he heard Zoe clearing her throat. He turned to see her standing in the entrance to the bridge, lookin' down at her boots. And up he stood.

"Think it's time to question the passenger, Sir?"

"Might be," he nodded curtly and swept out past his first mate.

* * *

><p>Shi - yes<br>Gui - hell


	15. Seed

A/N: So, so, so, so sorry for the hiatus and the shortened chapter! Thanks to everyone who has continued to read and review this story through an absence of updates! Translations at the end, as usual. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Zoe had the girl sat in a chair, pushed back from the dinner table, hands cuffed in her lap. She'd given little Kaylee a gun – supposing the prisoner tried something while she'd gone tracking down Mal – but the mechanic was having a heluva time trying to look like it belonged in her hands. Mal walked up behind and set his hands on Kaylee's shoulders, trying to ease her discomfort a bit. She let out a breath and lowered the gun to her side, and Mal harmoniously reached down to relieve her of it.<p>

"We're coming up on the ship's morning cycle, so… morning."

The girl was silent.

"So. My name's Mal." He waited a tick before continuing. "Now it's your turn. You see I say somethin', then you say somethin'. That's usually how this business works." By now, Kaylee had retreated to the lounge area off the galley, and Mal had stepped forward to close the gap a bit. He could see the girl was doing her best to simply ignore him, focusing on the walls and their trompe l'oeil, then darting to each different chair nestled around the table, and so on. Finally he placed himself between her and the table. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the tabletop. "And, just so's you know that I know," he spoke softly but firmly, "It ain't 'Paz'. What is it?"

"Nom, le grade et le numéro de série? Je ne suis pas un soldat!"

"Now that's not very nice," Mal glanced up to the stairs leading from the bridge, where River was slowly stepping down. Her eyes were on her feet, the floor, and dancing around any other low-lying surface without seeming to focus on anything. "I don't know about you but I ain't got a lot of fancy learnin', speakin' other languages and such. Help an old man out. Once I get to know who you are a little better, things can get more conversation-like." Mal leaned a little closer and put on one of his quizzical smiles. "What's your name, Doll?"

He was rewarded by spittle hitting his chin and lower lip, which instantly turned down into a frown. Before he had a chance to warn that she not repeat that kind of behavior, she spoke again.

"Keiner von deinen verdammten geschäft."

"I'm getting tired of playing this game with you, and we haven't even started to play my game, so why don't you do me a little favor and tell me your _gāisǐ de, mǔqīn tā mā de, nǐ de zǔxiān de chǐrǔ name_!"

By now, River had made her way into the room proper and was nearing the girl's chair from behind. At his outburst Mal saw her visibly flinch, but he didn't have time to muse on that as the girl shot another confounding retort his way.

"Potselovatʹ menya v zadnitsu i idti yebatʹ sebya," she delivered quietly and forcefully. No sooner had her mouth closed than had River reached out and grabbed the girl's hair, twisting until she was forced to look River in the face.

"Play nicely with the captain, and _don't speak Russian_," she instructed before releasing the tresses from her fingers.

Mal's eyebrows raised involuntarily and he couldn't decide what shocked him more – River's actions, or the girls _re_-actions. She shut her eyes tightly and looked as though she was letting loose a silent scream. He watched as River leaned down to speak something else into the girl's ear. "Not ever," she said, before circling the dining table to take a seat in the lounge with a very on-edge mechanic.

Mal cleared his throat. "I'd very much like to hold a civilized like conversation with you in which we can address one t'the other by name. But if you don't see fit to cooperate with that request I'll just go on askin' my questions. You can go on not answering – that's up to you. You can go on sittin' in that quiet, dark passenger dorm. We got a long flight ahead of us. That's dandy with me. Just, get comfortable. Just know you ain't goin' anywhere."

The girl jutted her jaw out stubbornly. It half reminded Mal of River when she'd be bickering with the Doc, refusing to take his medicines. So much of this stubborn bu kuh nuhn girl reminded him of River. "Have it your way."

* * *

><p>"She doesn't know."<p>

Mal had almost missed the sound of her footsteps as she took the stairs down to the lounge outside of the infirmary. His hands rested on the jam above the hatch that led to the passenger dorms, to where they were keeping the girl.

"What don't she know, River?" he asked, an edge of fatigue in his voice.

"What you wish she would tell you. What she can't know... not yet."

He turned at that, remembering their unfinished conversation on the bridge. Was she speaking in riddles again? Was River the she in question?

"You're off your mark, Captain. She doesn't know how to help you find them... not yet." River sat down with a woosh on the lounge sofa and leaned her head back, squinting her eyes. "It's very fuzzy, her nut. Like a chestnut. Once you crack the outer shell you could almost stroke it's insides. Tiny little feelers on a seed pod." She cocked her head to the side. "Peas in a pod. They say that siblings are... Simon and I are seeds in a pod."

"You need to rest, Albatross."

"Not necessary."

Mal walked to the sofa to have a seat next to River. "Well, I give up for the time. I'm beat and my mind has been going ninety to nothin' since this mornin'…" He screwed up his face, thinking over it again. "Yesterday mornin'. Looks like we're flyin' and sleepin' in shifts. Zoe and Kaylee got the next few hours. Only good sleep deprivations gonna do us would be on her part."

"Can't tell you what she doesn't know," River insisted.

"Yeah. You said that before. About that not knowin'…? You… ready to talk more?"

"Not here." River stood and padded softly up the steps, through the bay, up the final set of flights to the catwalk, and into the remaining shuttle. She didn't hesitate once and Mal found himself taking the steps two at a time to even their pace. The door snicked open softly as he reached the entrance only moments after River. As he stepped inside, she engaged the lock behind him.

"Now, I said _talk_, Albatross," Mal warned, holding up his hands and stepping back.

"Not here for sex. Explanation." River shook her head in frustration. She knew that fatigue and stress affected her ability to properly structure her thoughts. Mal had been right. They both needed to rest. He could see her irritation with herself, and while he knew it was in no way her fault – wouldn't be the first time, not the last, that he'd cursed the hundan,_ son of a bitch_, Alliance butchers for what they'd done to her – he could see the futility involved in convincing _her_ of that.

"The problem is with the seed," she continued. Mal's face went blank as he glanced downward at his crotch. "Not that… Mine. Simon."

"Oh?" he asked, incredulously. Then it clicked in his brain. "Oh. Simon _is_ the seed." River nodded, a look of accomplishment at having communicated her point flooding her face. "Simon is the problem… with you and me?"

"Not with _us_. Maybe about us…" she trailed off sadly.

"I'm tryin' hard, darlin'. And I know you are too." Mal softened his tone as he moved forward to wrap his arms around her. "But you gonna hafta give me a little more to go on."

"He's all I have. All I've had for so long, Mal. Peas in a pod. Now he has gone and I've found _us_. What happens next?"

"I won't ever stop looking for your brother, boa bai."

"Why not?" she asked, her voice faltering.

"Because you love him. And…" he leaned back enough to tilt her chin up and place a chaste kiss to her lips. "That's what you do for someone you love."

"He'll oppose this," River sniffled. "And I don't want to hate him."

"Shh. Hush, now." Mal bundled the woman closer to him. He led her to the bed and lay them both down in the dimly lit shuttle. He realized now why she had led him here. No one would look for them here. They were far from the crew and captive – far enough the underlying mental chatter was easier for her to block. And although fooling around here would be a smarter option than the bridge or either one's bunk – at least until the cat was officially out of the bag – it wasn't what they both needed right now.

Mal remained awake until he felt River's breaths become longer, and her fingers uncurl from the fabric over his chest. Soon after, they were both dead to the ship and the crew carrying on around them.

* * *

><p>Allan stood outside a bar on the darker side of the little town, at a Cortex terminal that was typically used for calling a transport to pick up some drunken hundan or other. He had hacked the terminal in order to afford him a few free moments of wave time and proceeded to input Warwick Harrow's direct wave address. The screen threw up a grainy image of the Lord, obviously at his residence rather than his office at this late hour of the night.<p>

"Mr. Allan. You've been causing quite the stir. I was grateful to you for your discretion about our relationship in light of your current circumstance. I suppose I should not have expected that to keep indefinitely."

"I have a problem, and I wouldn't ask if there were any other way." Allan's tone was clipped and urgent.

"Go on," Harrow answered, intrigue winning out over caution.

"It's one of the people I'm with, one of Reynold's crew. She's ill. She…"

"Miss Serra?" Harrow cut him off.

"Yes. She needs treatment. I need funds. I've exhausted what I could access before my accounts were flagged. Anything to get us through the next month. Then anything you need… I would be in your debt."

"How much?"

* * *

><p>Nom, le grade et le numéro de série? Je ne suis pas un soldat! (name, rank and serial number? I am not a soldier!)<p>

keiner von deinen verdammten geschäft. (none of your fucking business)

_gāisǐ de, mǔqīn tā mā de, nǐ de zǔxiān de chǐrǔ_ (goddamned, mother fucking, disgrace to your ancestors)

potselovatʹ menya v zadnitsu i idti yebatʹ sebya (kiss my ass and go fuck yourself)

bu kuh nuhn (impossible)


End file.
